


Eight Years

by jbsullivan17



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke, F/M, bellarke fluff - Freeform, they deserve happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbsullivan17/pseuds/jbsullivan17
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke have known each other for eight years, their relationship matures and grows along the way.





	1. Years 1 & 2

**Author's Note:**

> So at first this was supposed to just be Year 8 with a short little memory of Year 6 but once that was written and I started editing and adding little tidbits of information here and there I rewrote the entire thing and here it is. I needed a break from [Forgiveness is a Funny Word When I'm Coming Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8145688) because it became a habit to write more for flashbacks than the present, more pressing part of the plot... getting back to that grindstone now that this is finished and posted.  
> o.O

# YEAR ONE

Clarke was so excited to go to college, away from her mother after a hellish senior year of high school. Her father died, her mother remarried and her best friend that decided that joining the military was the best option after high school when he could have gone to college was killed, his rover hit an IED and exploded.

She missed her dad, missed who he allowed her to be, telling her mother that Clarke can follow her own path and not in either of their footsteps though she was smart enough to follow either of their career paths if she so chose to. But she was an artist at heart, interpreting the world for people was in her blood. You can’t change your passion.

Clarke was halfway done unpacking her things when a girl with long dirty blonde hair stormed in and plopped on the empty bed by the door.

“Um, hi,” Clarke said/asked staring at the girl with her face smashed into the hard mattress, Clarke’s wasn’t much better.

“It’s not polite to stare, Clarke Griffin. Please save yourself, my parents will be here in a minute and they’re going to cry and ask you too many questions that I don’t think you’d feel comfortable answering honestly.”

“You’re Harper McIntire?” Clarke guessed, who else would know her name besides her dorm mate? She doesn’t know anyone here.

“That’s me. You have ninety seconds,” Harper warned.

“You’re going to ask these questions later, aren’t you?”

“For personal reasons, I’ll make up the answers for them.”

Clarke laughed, “Half hour?”

“Should be all clear,” Harper said and Clarke nodded telling the girl she’ll be back later.

Clarke went down the back stairs and found a boy smoking a joint out the window on the second floor landing.

“Oh, shit,” he exclaimed, trying to hide it.

“I’m not the RA, or a narc, as long as I can get a hit.”

“What if it’s laced?”

“I’m watching you smoke it, you trying to incapacitate yourself?”

“Are you a premed?” he asked handing the joint over.

 

“My mother wishes I was, I had to agree to take some of the courses to make her happy.”

Clarke took a drag as the boy cringed, “She’s one of those.”

“Just since my father died. I’m Clarke.”

“Jasper, room 420, if you’re ever in need of more,” he offered, taking the joint back.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Seriously, my best friend’s parents are botanists back in Colorado, we got good shit.”

“You’re cornering the market in the dorm, hope it works. I’m headed to the library. I’ll see ya?”

“Same dorm, probably.”

Clarke went to the library across campus and found an anatomy book and began sketching out parts of the body.

“What are you doing?” she heard hours later, still going at it.

Clarke looked up and a shaggy haired boy was looking down at her.

“Sketching,” she answered honestly, though she’s sure that wasn’t what he meant.

“Yeah, no, that’s an anatomy textbook and you’re sketching the parts of the body? Like the heart, intestines, kidneys..?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at but yeah, they’re important for human survival, why wouldn’t I?”

“Is art your major?”

“No. Yes, sorry, I'm used to answering that with my mother around.”

“Your mom?” he asked skeptically.

“She's a doctor, wants me to follow in her footsteps.”

“Oh, and you don't want to.”

“Would you want to follow your parents?”

“My parents are… nope, you're right, don't want to follow them. I'm Finn Collins.”

“Clarke Griffin.”

“Nice to meet you, Clarke Griffin. I have to go but I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll be the weirdo with the sketch pad,” she quipped and Finn laughed before leaving Clarke to her creepy drawings.

* * *

“Clarke Griffin,” she heard behind her as she was settling into her seat for Ethics 101.

She turned around and saw Finn Collins sitting in the row right behind her. “Finn, right?”

“Can’t forget the name of a body part, can you?” he smirked.

“A body part of a majority of aquatic animals? Not exactly.”

“Well, I’m honored.”

“You have the gleam of freshman yet the navigational skills of a junior,” she noted.

“You’ve noticed me on campus?”

“Well, when one is stationary and unfocused and don’t know anyone, you tend to find the people you’ve spoken with. So far that’s you, a pot head in my dorm and my roommate.”

“Pot head?” Finn asked curiously.

“Yeah, fellow freshmen. Caught him smoking in the stairwell the first day, right before I met you, actually.”

“I doubt that, you were hours comfortable in that chair I found you in.”

“It’s a good chair, I highly recommend it.”

“I wouldn’t tell too many people that or it’ll never be available. And to answer your question, this is my hometown, not knowing the school would be frowned upon.”

"Indeed it would be, I’m just glad that my mother didn’t follow me here. She has a tendency to be overly protective, only child and all.”

“Doesn’t that just mean that your trouble?”

“Mischief isn’t trouble, it’s just… up to no good.”

“Synonymous, you think that’s why they make ethics a mandatory course?”

“No, I think it’s so they can cover their ass if something ever happens on campus. Not only was it in the school code of conduct but they also took an ethics class when they first got here. We tried teaching them what’s right, they just didn’t grasp it.”

“Intuitive,” Finn smirked.

“Good morning, class. My name is Bellamy and I’m the TA. Professor Wallace will be here next week,” the man in front of the class said, beginning Clarke’s first class of the semester.

After that Clarke and Finn hung out a lot, studied together. he was freaking out one night about the midterm and they had sex, throwing them into a relationship that they were both invested in. Clarke was happy for the first time since her father passed, since Wells left.

The end of the year came swiftly and she went home where as Finn stayed because he was already home. They texted when they could, their conversations being few and far between after the Fourth of July.

* * *

# YEAR TWO

Clarke walked onto campus with determination, she’s changing majors. She’s one hundred percent committed to art. Screw what Doctor Abigail Griffin said, Clarke is an artist, not a surgeon.

Clarke was settled into her new dorm, with Harper, they requested each other at the end of the semester last year because they liked each other and were decent roommates so better than risk changing and getting shit roommates they’re better off sticking with a good option than possibly getting shit on.

Clarke headed to the bridge that separated the east and west campuses, needing something to draw when she saw Finn. They hadn’t really talked in two weeks and Clarke blamed the constant arguments with her mother about school and thought that maybe Finn was working more to cover tuition costs, but seeing him now, arguing with some girl she didn’t recognize, Clarke was hurt because the way they stood and talked to each other meant that they were more than comfortable and familiar with each other’s bodies in the biblical sense and sure, maybe Clarke was being presumptuous about the whole thing, they could just be friends or coworkers, they didn’t necessarily have to have had sex. Right?

She was coming up from behind Finn when she heard the girl say, “It’s like you’re not happy that I transferred here.”

“I—Raven, it’s not that I’m not happy to see you, you know I am, I just—this is a third or fourth rate college that doesn’t even have an engineering program, you were at MIT, for Gods’ sake!” he argued.

“I love you, Finn. I want to be where you are. This is your home, so I’m here to—“

Finn shook his head. Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing, this woman loves Finn, left MIT for Finn. Clarke’s Finn. This is all very—what are they to each other?

Finn looked around the park and spotted Clarke. “Clarke, hey! What are—“

“Babe, are you friends with her?” the girl, Raven asked.

“Yeah, we—Clarke?”

“I’m his girlfriend,” Clarke said to Raven who’s face went from soft and caring to wanting to skin Finn alive.

“Girlfriend?” she asked and Clarke stood still, half wanting to see how this turns out and half praying what she knew was real wasn’t.

“You were in Massachusetts, Rae. You said that—“

“I remember, I was there. I remember our conversation like it was yesterday, Finn. I never said that it was okay to see other people! Fuck you! Fuck I moved here for you!” Raven exclaimed before storming off.

Finn looked to the ground and grimaced before looking over at Clarke, “Clarke—“

“Don’t. Goodbye, Finn,” she said, continuing on to the bridge.

She told Harper about the whole fiasco after she finished a few sketches for her art classes. Still work, her favorite. Harper was furious, being a good friend but Clarke was just sad. She wasn’t going to cry over someone who was willing to use her to cheat on someone else. She wasn’t that kind of person, it hurt, of course it did but he wasn’t worth her tears. It hurt because he was her only friend. Yeah, there was Harper but she was a convenient ally, they hadn’t been friends freshman year and Clarke didn’t want to be pitied.

A few months passed and Clarke was over Finn, he kept calling her and leaving notes on the whiteboard on her door, telling her that he wants her back. That he wanted to end it with Raven and it was complicated, they were friends their entire lives so it made sense until he met Clarke and suddenly being with Raven didn’t make sense anymore.

Clarke didn’t give in though. She couldn’t risk her moral code for a guy she just liked, not love. She was okay with where she was at, she had a routine that didn’t involve him or any one romantically, her grades are better without distractions.

It’s Halloween and Clarke was content with staying in her dorm studying when Harper stormed in and yanked her off her bed and threw a French maid’s outfit at her. “Change, you’re coming out because I can’t see you wallowing all the time. Let loose and have fun!”

“Where would we be going?”

“Fourth floor.”

“With Jasper?” Clarke asked, she assumed that since their dorm didn’t change, his didn’t either.

“Yeah. You know Jasper?”

“Met last year, he was… is there an adjective to describe Jasper?”

“Stoned, free-spirited, absentminded.”

“Those are cruel, but why the hell not, it’s just upstairs, if I hate it I’ll just come back down here.”

“Get dressed, lazy bones!”

Ten minutes later, Clarke felt and looked like a whore, she also found out that Harper is trying to be more than friends with Jasper’s friend Monty and can’t show up to their party alone even though all her friends will be there so what did it matter? But there Clarke is going to a party filled with strangers.

“What the hell is she doing here?” is the first thing Clarke heard over the obnoxiously thumping bass once the elevator doors opened and Raven was standing between two insanely attractive brunettes that had to be related. The older one, Clarke recognized, he was the TA from one of her classes last year.

“Be nice, Raven,” the young girl said next to her.

“Nice, to the girl Finn cheated on me with? No.”

“O, this is exactly why I didn’t want to come, too much drama.”

“You’re the one that slept with my roommate, do not blame me for the awkward drama, Bell.”

 _Bellamy, his name was Bellamy,_ Clarke remembered.

“Raven, I’m sorry about the Finncident. If I knew that you were in the picture I never would have been with him. He never mentioned you so how could I have known?”

“Wait, this is the girl—“ O asked, gaping at Clarke. “You’re pretty.”

“Excuse my roommate, she pre-gamed and likes everyone. What are you doing here?” Raven demanded while Bellamy just leaned back against the wall, now enjoying the dispute.

“Clarke is my roommate,” Harper said annoyed, they hadn’t acknowledged her since they arrived. Clarke’s ex drama taking center stage.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant, this is our party.”

A lanky boy with goggles stepped out of a dorm, Clarke recognized him as Jasper, it’s been a year, but no dramatic changes rendered him unrecognizable aside from the mad scientist costume and wig. “Actually, it’s my party and I say the more the merrier. Hello, Clarke, it’s nice to see you again.”

Clarke smiled, her lips latched shut, “Hey, Jasper.”

“Long time no see, I’d have thought you were dead if Harper didn’t mention you every once in a while. Coming here to crash when you were with—“

“We’re just not going to talk about him,” O said quickly with a smile, but looked pointedly between Clarke and Raven, trying to get Jasper to see what was going on.

“You’re abnormally chipper. Did Monty give you an Adderall?”

O smiled widely and Bellamy knocked his head back against the wall audibly, the thunk heard all the way down the hall.

“Monty, you really need to stop handing out my Adderall! Octavia is—“

“Blissfully self-aware,” Clarke heard behind her and turned around.

“Nathan?” she asked in disbelief.

“Griffin, what—are you okay?” he asked, concern hitting him like a wave crashing into the shore.

“Why didn’t people ask me if I was okay?” Raven spat. “The bastard cheated on me too.”

Nathan grimaced at Raven, “You ran to Bellamy, asking him to screw your brains out. You’re fine. Besides, I didn’t know that Clarke was the other woman until you _just_ said so. I didn’t even know Clarke went to school here. What happened the Ivys that were begging for your attendance?”

“Nate, you know I’m not my mother.”

“You two know each other?” Bellamy asked. “From high school?”

“From…I think I was six and Clarke was five.”

“That sounds about right.”

“We hung out at events, my father would schmooze for money and Clarke and Wells’s parents would hand it over. Wells was good people, I’m sorry, Clarke.”

“Who’s Wells?” Octavia asked.

“He was my best friend. He died two years ago, he was in a plane with my father and his mother and it crashed. No survivors.”

“That’s a downer,” Octavia rolled her eyes and walked into the dorm that Jasper stepped out of.

“Excuse her, she is a different, nicer person when she’s sober,” Harper explained and Clarke had a feeling that even drunk Octavia was nice, it was the Adderall-induced Octavia that was mean.

The party was fun and not really a party, more of a group of friends that aren’t of age to go to a bar hanging out, having the only legal one there getting all the booze, Bellamy.

The boys were playing X-box and the girls watched until it was dark when they pulled out all the stops with a horror movie marathon drinking game.

“Okay, so, I know Octavia and Harper are going to be curled up in a ball of scardy-cat for the next six or so hours, but that makes this a thousand times better,” Miller smirked to the group, they were joined late by another guy they all called Murphy and that Bellamy told to shut up a _lot,_ which made Harper and Raven hold in laughs every time. “Clarke, I’m not actually sure you’re okay horror movies.”

“If they’re good, I don’t have a problem with them.”

“Well, you have a problem then, but you’re going to get drunker than you did at Christmas three years ago.”

“That was food poisoning,” she countered, refusing to admit defeat.

“They pumped your stomach!”

“Miller,” Bellamy grumbled next to Clarke, still not having said a word to her. Maybe it was awkward hanging out with a former student. Then again he wasn’t the professor, just the TA.

“Right,” Miller clapped his hands together before rubbing them together swiftly. “Rules for movie numero uno: whenever you cannot understand what the hell is being said, you fucking drink. Every time someone dies, you fucking drink. Anytime someone does something badass or your friends comment badass or any of the likings, you fucking drink. Whenever a main character makes a dumbass decision, you fucking drink. Lights!”

Murphy stood and walked over to the switch.

“What’s the movie?” Clarke asked and Harper tapped her knee. She has a lot to learn with this crew.


	2. Years 3 & 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The titles are giving me some Harry Potter vibes. Did not realize that when this started but fuck it, naming chapters is hard!
> 
> YEAR 3:  
> Clarke and Bellamy argue making the delinquents think they're screwing then they go on spring break and Miller is the one that separates them. Lord knows that when Miller gets in the middle, it's fucking bad.
> 
> YEAR 4:  
> Nothing I could write would ever explain this year...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too much to do and not enough time. I’m trying to write both fics that I’m working on, start a book that I promised my friend I’d read before Halloween. I’m the best man of the best man (it's a lot harder than it sounds) at a wedding in 2 days. My mechanic just told me that my car should not be functioning though it’s taking me to work every day with no problem. I have to enroll back in school for January, I really don’t want to. I hate uni, I honestly understand calling it Uni better than college… I’m fucking American and not proud at the moment.
> 
> Oh and trying to type without a fingernail hurts like HELL!
> 
> Anyway needed to bitch and complain thanks for reading this drabble of complaints, happy reading :)

# YEAR THREE

 “What the hell did you do?!” Clarke exclaimed storming into Professor Wallace’s office where Bellamy preforms office hours.

“Office hours, Princess, get out,” Bellamy said without looking up from the paper on his desk.

“Fuck you. Why did you do it?”

“Office. Hours!” Bellamy reiterated with a huff.

“Hi, student of douche face, would you mind if I take five minutes to beat the shit out of your TA?”

“As long as I get the help I need,” she shrugged.

“Fox,” Bellamy glared at his student before looking up at Clarke. ”Clarke, seriously, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“You told Maya I'm damaged!”

“Wait,” Bellamy smirked. “You're trying to get with Maya? You do realize she's straight and completely into Jasper.”

Yeah, because Clarke is going to poach someone from one of her friends, not going to happen. “I did know that, that still doesn’t mean you can go around talking about me like we’re friends when you don’t talk to me, just start a dick measuring contest.”

“Well, I’m hoping I at least win that,” he smirked, aggravating Clarke even more.

“This isn’t over, you just can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious right now, Princess. Dick measuring contest, right? I’ll show you mine when you show me yours.”

“Ugh!” Clarke exclaimed and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Storming out of the building, Clarke sat on the stone wall outside, waiting on Raven to get out of her meeting with Professor Sinclair before heading over to the art department to get Lincoln for the project she’s partnered with him on.

“Clarke,” she heard a few minutes after sitting down. She turned and saw the girl, Fox, from Bellamy’s office.

“Fox, right? Sorry about that, Bellamy is a dick.”

“Bellamy’s a dick when he kicks Collins out of class for no reason, he was—he was tranquil and, dare I say, exuberant when he was goading you.”

“English major?” Clarke guessed. “Bellamy was my—wait, Finn Collins? I’m surprised Bellamy hasn’t beaten him up yet, then again I’m surprised Finn is even risking showing his face.”

“More drama?”

“Two-timing bastard, at least you know what you’re getting with Bellamy. One night,” Clarke explained, she’s seen Bellamy with so many brunette undergrads the past year that if she had a dollar for each one, she’d have at least a hundred and fifty dollars. That’s gross no matter which way you slice it.

“Well, regardless, you may rile him up but he was rigid after you left, cold and distant. That’s why I’m here, he wasn’t of any use.”

“I’m sorry, when’s the exam?”

“Next week, I have a study group and Bellamy said he’ll talk to me after class tomorrow so it’ll all work out. It was nice to meet you, Princess.”

“Oh, God, please don’t call me that, it’s a dig in which he has no idea what he’s even talking about so it’s just another way to annoy me.”

“Griffin, let’s go,” Raven exclaimed, practically skipping out of the building. Strange.

“I have to go, Fox. It was nice meeting you,” Clarke stood and walked away with Raven towards the art building for Lincoln.

“She’s cute,” Raven said after a good distance.

“Yeah, but I’m not looking,” Clarke grimaced, she knew not every guy was like Finn. She knew that, but she still didn’t trust that everyone that hit on her was single. “Did you know that Finn is in Bellamy’s history class.”

“What?!” Raven questioned. That answered that. “And he hasn’t dropped it or gotten the shit kicked out of him?”

“Fox said that Bellamy frequently kicks him out of class. Figured you knew his schedule a little since you had to go see him to get your stuff back, I didn’t leave anything with him.”

“No. I can’t believe that Bellamy never told us.”

“Maybe Finn doesn’t know that Bellamy is our friend,” Clarke shrugged.

“You’re friends with Bellamy? Since when?” Raven smirked, making Clarke roll her eyes.

“If I didn’t hate them both, I’d do something about it but I do hate them both so I’m not going to do anything about it,” Clarke stated with a straight face, she’s so over Finn’s texts and voicemails and the constant bickering with Bellamy was getting on her nerves but he, they’re _friends_ , Clarke is beginning to hate the word.

“That’s some spot on logic.”

* * *

“Are you seriously asking me for help right now?” Clarke spat, yanking her sociology textbook out of Bellamy’s tight grasp before avidly searching for where she left off. Chapter twenty-seven, was it?

“Yes, something quick, ten minutes with your car.”

“You want to borrow my car?”

“No, I want you to pick up my lunch and deliver it to my Roman history class,” Bellamy said seriously, who the hell did he think he was? It’s the middle of midterms and he’s asking Clarke to step away from her studies to bring him lunch? It’s asinine!

“No! Why can’t Raven or Octavia do it?”

“Because O has a midterm at that time and Raven doesn’t hate Collins like we do.”

Clarke looked across the common room to Raven lounging on the couch, her hair in a high messy bun that hasn’t been washed for a while. Midterms are kicking everyone’s ass. “Raven, you’re cool with Finn?”

“It’s a long story, Clarke. Think of it like you and Miller dating and you didn’t know he was gay. He goes away to college and you’re separated for a year, he comes home and you found out he’s dating Bryan. You’re heartbroken, but you’ve known him so long that he’s part of your family. No, I don’t think what Finn did was right, but his family took me in, his parents are my parents. I can’t keep talking to them if I’m not talking to him, it’s kind of weird. I haven’t actually spoken to him really because I’m still mad that I’ll lash out and they understand that. They’re all I have besides you guys.”

Clarke knew what Raven was feeling, she talks to Jaha even though her father and Wells were gone. He was a part of Clarke’s life for so long that even though the two tethers that connected them were broken and unfixable, the occasional connection was nice and worth it. “When?” Clarke asked Bellamy, annoyed.

“Thursday, eleven-forty-five?”

“And I’m just bringing you lunch?”

Bellamy scoffed with that smug smirk of his that Clarke detested, “Just make it look natural, Princess.”

“ _Natural_ would be me _not_ doing this favor for you.”

“Right. I’ll see you Thursday,” Bellamy winked before walking away.

“Are you sure they’re not fucking?” Octavia asked Raven from the arm chair placed next to the couch.

“I think they’re accepting,” Raven offered.

Clarke rolled her eyes from her seat at the table across the room, “I can hear you!”

* * *

Clarke knocked on the door of the classroom just after eleven-forty-five and opened the door, peaking in. Bellamy was lecturing about Emperor Augustus when he turned his head and smiled at her, probably relieved that she’d actually did it.

“Hey,” he said to her before turning back to the hall. “Give me a moment guys, turn your textbooks to chapter eleven.” Bellamy walked the few yards to Clarke and smirked as his back was turned to his class. “This is a surprise,” he said chipper, it’s for the act.

Clarke saw Finn in the fourth row staring at them, if looks could kill. “Thought I’d bring you lunch since you’re working all day and won’t have a chance to grab something,” Clarke said, her stomach turned with the affectionate lie while keeping complete eye contact with Bellamy.

She found that once she’s looked into the dark orbs, they’re difficult to look away from, they’re enchanting. How could such dark eyes be so enthralling? She was leaning in before she realized she was, lifting onto her tippy toes. Her lips pressed against his freckle dusted cheek before she could stop herself, her eyes closed softly when she felt Bellamy huff against her cheek.

Pulling away, she realized that 1. Bellamy was holding her hand, the one with the plastic bag of his lunch that she thought long and hard about at the deli because he never specified what he wanted her to bring him so she went with a Rueben partly because it was the special of the day and also she was craving corned beef and ordered one for herself as well. 2. The entire class was staring at them, including Fox in the second row that had a knowing smirk on her face.

“Thanks, Princess,” Bellamy said, the nickname sweet on his lips, as she handed him the bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said but it sounded more like a question and somehow his deep voice had gotten deeper, gravely.

They’re all leaving for Puerto Rico in the morning, decided that it’d be best if they all stayed in the same hall Friday night before they leave insanely early Saturday morning.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she smiled fondly at him and that time it wasn’t part of an act, she’d somehow became fond of the asshole that stood in front of her.

 _Where the hell did that come from?_ She asked herself as she stepped back into the hall, letting Bellamy get back to his lesson.

* * *

Clarke and Bellamy had three huge fights between her arrival at her dorm after her last final Friday night and them getting to the airport Saturday morning. Miller and Raven separated them through check in and security. Octavia switching seats with Clarke on the plane to keep the peace.

Once they got to the hotel in the middle of the afternoon, Clarke wanted to cringe, her mother, Jaha, Kane, and General Miller splurged on the hotel. Four and a half stars, getting five suites next to each other on the same floor, Clarke didn’t think they’d all ever been so close to each other since the Halloween party last year, they didn’t even know Lincoln yet.

Bellamy and Miller got the first room, Bryan didn’t go because he had to go see his sick mom back in Iowa. Then it was Jasper and Monty, Octavia and Raven, Lincoln and Murphy, then lastly, Clarke and Harper. Clarke was happy to be as far away from Bellamy as possible.

They all relaxed in their rooms until dinner where they decided to stay at the hotel and eat at the restaurant downstairs instead of exploring and getting lost, that’ll be the rest of the week.

Murphy said something about bringing back cigars sending Clarke into a rant about how unhealthy it is to smoke, causing Bellamy to counter with her hypocritical stance since she smokes weed like the rest of them, throwing them into another argument before Clarke stormed off back to her suite, slamming her bedroom door because the suites had two bedrooms with bathrooms attached to each.

The next day they arrived at El Yunque National Park and the group separated Clarke and Bellamy again, Group One (Clarke, Raven, Miller, Monty, and Jasper) taking the LaMina Waterfalls trail, with Group Two (Bellamy, Octavia, Harper, Lincoln, and Murphy) taking the La Coca trail.

Their days were long and tiresome as well as amazing, the waterfall was the most beautiful things Clarke had ever seen, but of course, that threw Clarke and Bellamy into another argument on the hour drive back to the hotel, causing everyone to groan and wish they didn’t go on the trip at all.

“Will you two fucking stop already? We get it, you hate each other! So why the hell won’t you just stop before we lock the two of you in a room together to figure it out,” Murphy shouted from the back of the van.

“Shut up, Murphy! She’s a spoiled rotten princess, throwing this vacation in our faces!” Bellamy spat from the passenger’s seat.

“You’re an ungrateful asshole, and by the way, I didn’t pay for you and Octavia, Kane did. He thinks of you as the son he never had. I don’t deserve your appreciation, but he does,” Clarke spat back at him.

“Kane thinks of me as a son?”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t know what that feels like because you never had a father.”

“Go to hell, _Princess_ ,” Bellamy’s sneer was so unnerving that the entire van went silent, only the Spanish radio was playing with a woman swooning.

“This is supposed to be a vacation, but how the hell are any of us going to relax with the two of you at each other’s throats twenty-four/seven?” Octavia cried, curled into Lincoln in the back next to Murphy.

“Blame her,” Bellamy said flatly, looking out the window, everyone knowing who he's blaming.

“What the hell did I do?”

“You brought us here, Princess, none of us wanted to come but who’s going to say no to a free trip to Puerto Rico? None of us like you.”

“Says the guy who asked me to do him a favor helping him piss of Finn Collins. Neither Raven or I care anymore, Blake, so why do you?”

“He’s a smug bastard.”

“Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re arrogant.”

They kept going for the next half hour until Raven parked the van in the parking lot, everyone climbing out. They all agreed—well, mostly—on going to a restaurant the concierge recommended when they arrived the day before, but first they all went to shower and change.

* * *

Clarke was clean for what felt like the first time in months, wrapping her fluffy white robe around her waist, entering her room to change, finding a wet haired Bellamy sitting in the chair in the corner. She gasped in shock before yelling at him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Harper said she needed help with something so being a good friend, I came to help, she and Miller locked me in here.”

“My clothes are out there. I—“ Clarke sighed. Furious, she stomped to the door and tried the doorknob. It wouldn’t budge.

“Tried it,” Bellamy said, bored.

Clarke hammered her fist against the painted white wood, “Harper, let me out, I don’t have clothes in here and I’m starving!”

“You two are not going anywhere until you figure your shit out. We’re not asking the two of you to be friends, we just want you two to be civil around each other.”

“Could you at least give me clothes and food?”

“We stocked the TV cabinet with protein bars, you’re set for a few days if you’re really that stubborn.”

“Miller, remember when you thought you liked girls and you kissed my—“

“Clarke, everyone knows that I kissed you Twilight poster, the more pressing question is why did you own it in the first place? The franchise sucked,” Miller responded on the other side.

“Really?” Bellamy grimaced and Clarke turned to him.

“Asks the man whose favorite movie is Tristan and Isolde,” Clarke countered.

“That’s fair. I still win, mine’s historical fiction, not sci-fi fantasy.”

“Whatever, Bellamy,” Clarke grimaced, laying back on her bed, draping her arms over her face with a sigh.

After a few minutes of silence, Bellamy shifted, “What about a truce?”

“Because those have worked for us in the past.”

“At least I’m trying to get the hell out of here.”

“Well, maybe if you shut up, I could think of a way out of here.”

“You don’t have a bobby pin, do you?”

“What? No, besides, they’re not stupid enough to think that a lock would keep us in here. There’s a chain or a chair keeping the door shut.”

“You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“What planet are you on? I don’t—it’s impossible to know everything, you should know that.”

“Shut up.”

“Look, I’m exhausted, I hiked five miles uphill today, dodged falling rocks, was pummeled by a waterfall, which felt kind of awesome, but it was exhausting. Now, if you’re agreeing to not argue for the next four or so hours, we can order a movie on demand while drinking from the mini bar, until we pass out. Good?”

“Mini bar?” Bellamy asked, perking up.

Clarke smirked, of course he’d be down to drink away the problem. She tied the sash of her robe tighter before going to the TV cabinet opening the top portion before turning it on and tossing Bellamy the remote. “Please pick something good.”

“Are you going to mix drinks?” he asked, his face horrified, and Clarke’s not going to lie, she’s never done it before.

“There is some sodas in here too, you want a rum and coke?”

“What about straight whiskey?” he asked, pressing buttons on the remote, staring at the TV.

“I think I can manage that.”

“Dear God, please let her know that it’s served in a glass.”

“Asshole.”

“Ah, truce, remember, it was your idea.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, looking for the whiskey that she knew was in the fridge, she’d spotted it last night. “Ah-ha!” she smiled finding the small bottle of amber liquid.

She grabbed a plastic cup off the top of the fridge and scooped a couple ice cubes in before cracking the bottle open and poured the contents of the three-ounce bottle into the glass before making herself a vodka cranberry.

Bellamy sat on the edge of the bed for a better view of the TV and Clarke stared at him with their drinks in her hand. He looked like the guy from Thursday, the guy that was happy to see her, that he was there with her. She’d kissed that guy, but Bellamy is not that guy. Bellamy is hard edges and rocky cliffs, his weakness is his sister, protecting her at all costs, throwing caution to the wind. Clarke’s seen that Bellamy, she liked that Bellamy, but that Bellamy was reserved for Octavia and Octavia alone. Clarke didn’t want him to see her as a little sister, no, that’d be weird, but she didn’t want to constantly argue and only see that part of him. Hell, they’re losing their friends over the frivolousness of it all.

“Drink?” Clarke choked out, not knowing why her throat was so dry. She took a sip of her own, not bad.

Bellamy reached over and took it from her, “Thanks.”

“Did you find anything?”

“I—what are you in the mood to watch?”

“Action, comedy, whatever.”

“What about the Avengers?”

“No, spent way to many nights with Nate watching both over the summer that I’m all Robert Downey Jr’d out. Literally anything else, Deadpool is also a no because he’s Miller just open to more things sexually.”

“That is true, thanks for ruining that movie for me.”

“Wasn’t the intention.”

“Wasn’t it?” Bellamy asked dryly and Clarke didn’t answer, not biting into it. “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

“Did you just apologize?”

“No, shut up and drink. What about 22 Jump Street?”

“Wasn’t that worse than 21 Jump Street? I mean, Jonah Hill kind of ruined them.”

“ _My name is Jeff,”_ Bellamy said in the stupid voice and it was actually spot on making Clarke laugh and Bellamy smirked, taking a sip of his whiskey.

They settled on a throwback, the original Independence Day with Will Smith. Clarke fell asleep at one point, the last thing she remembered was the tunnel being blown up and Will Smith’s wife and child barely escaping it.

She was jerked awake by a sudden and painful pinch on her arm. “What the fuck?” she asked, turning to Bellamy lounging on the bed next to her, his eyes glued to the TV, jaw ridged.

“Your, um, robe is…” he clenched his jaw again and Clarke looked down, her right breast was fully exposed, the sash loose and both sides were sliding apart from one another, going past her pierced belly button, something Bellamy hadn’t known about her.

Clarke scrambled to close her robe, pulling the sash tighter than before, but still felt heat flush her face a rosie pink.

“They’re nice, by the way,” Bellamy said after a pregnant moment.

“What?”

“Your…they’re impeccable, actually.”

“My breasts?”

“Yeah, well, I always assumed, but that just—I wasn’t staring, just when I noticed, I woke you up.”

“You weren’t staring at my ‘impeccable’ breasts?” Clarke reiterated, trying to comprehend it but how would he know if they’re impeccable if he didn’t stare?

“Damn it, Princess, stop it. I let you know.”

“Am I attractive?”

Bellamy froze, not that he was moving, but he stopped breathing too. “What?” he asked quickly before he did that thing with his jaw.

“To you, do you think that I am? Would you ever be seen with someone who looks like me?”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to ask.”

“If I was brunette, right? That’s your thing, brown hair—“

“Princess, you aren’t making any sense,” he grumbled.

“Why wouldn’t you try something?”

“Oh.”

His jaw locked.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Clarke said, looking down at her hands that were being wrung together without her knowing.

“Would you have wanted me to? Hate sex is actually pretty great.”

“Why do you hate me? I’m not a princess like you say, you know. I’m a girl with a mom who throws money at me thinking it’ll make me happy because she doesn’t know me. I had two real friends, my father, which people don’t count, and Wells, and I lost them in the same month at the end of high school. That’s the surface, you haven’t tried getting to what’s underneath. I know more about you than you know about me. Sure, Octavia is partly why, but you—your mannerisms say a lot about you.”

“Clarke,” he warned, his tone deeper than she thought possible.

“You’re angry, not at me though I’m who you take it out on. You’re mad at Octavia’s father. That’s my best guess. Because he—“

“Shut up,” Bellamy growled, lunging at her, making her shut up with his lips pressed against Clarke’s, her eyes blown wide, not knowing what to do. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Then tell me,” Clarke whispered. Their lips were an inch apart and Clarke couldn’t look Bellamy in the eyes, keeping them trained on the tip of his nose. She couldn’t look into his eyes, she can’t fall like she almost did the last time his onyx eyes connected with hers.

“I'd rather fuck you.”

Clarke pulled away from him, looking at him anew.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“You stated a preference, as though you have an option to avoid one thing by doing another so the original is forgotten. You’re deflecting.”

“I’m horny because I get the opposite of the typical male reaction to whiskey when I drink it and there’s only one way to alleviate it.”

“And you want to alleviate it with me,” Clarke said skeptically.

“Do you see anyone else around?”

“And if I don’t want to?”

Bellamy scoffed, “Hate sex has nothing to do with attraction.”

“Anything involving sex has to deal with emotions. Love, lust, hate, they’re emotions. None of which I have for you.”

Bellamy smirked, “You need to get laid, besides there are plenty of positions that don’t involve an emotional connection.”

“You’re seriously trying to convince me into having sex with you?”

“It's not like it's going to change our perspectives, Princess. And honestly, it's that or jerking off.”

“Fuck no, you're not!”

“Then go back to sleep.”

“So you can do it next to me? I don't think so.”

“Fuck, Clarke. This NARB isn't going away on its own, they never do so either help out or watch.”

Clarke growled, “There is a bathroom right there!”

“You want to spend the entire week thinking about what I've done in your bathroom?”

“Better than knowing what you're going to do in my bed.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and stood, walking around the bed towards the bathroom but turned back to the bed and kissed Clarke. He took his time, not rushing it, trying to convince Clarke but she wasn't… damn, he was right. She needs to get laid.

“I hate you,” she said pushing Bellamy away.

“I know,” he smirked, tugging on her robe’s sash, loosening it.

“If we…we do this, no one can know.”

“You think I’m going to brag about you?” Bellamy asked quirking his brow.

“No. Fuck, just—get it over with.”

“Really?”

“Don’t give me time to change my mind and don’t make eye contact with me.”

Bellamy smirked, yanking Clarke’s robe open, “I should’ve known you’d be bossy.”

“Don’t you need to take your pants off?”

“I’m already regretting this,” Bellamy grumbled, flipping Clarke onto her stomach. “No eye contact, right?” he said after Clarke squealed in surprise.

Clarke was suddenly aching for friction, itching for him to touch her. She rolled on her side to see what Bellamy was doing, seeing him pull on the button of his shorts.

“Turn back over, you’ll know.”

“Am I going to be a rag doll?”

“It’ll be erotic, just relax and get back on your stomach,” he demanded and Clarke felt compelled to roll back over.

 _This is just sex, a release of endorphins and help relaxing, to destress,_ Clarke reminded herself. Just because it’s Bellamy doesn’t mean it has to be awkward afterwards, hence the no eye contact.

The anticipation was killing Clarke, she loved that he took charge even though she’s always in control. It was somehow easy to trust Bellamy and let him take over. That was until he grasped Clarke’s hips and yanked her onto her knees.

“Condom,” she breathed, feeling him stroke her hot, wet sex.

“Taken care of. God, you’re soaked,” he said and Clarke swore she heard some admiration in his tone. “All this for me?”

“God, will you shut up and get on with it?”

“Demanding, Princess.”

One of Bellamy’s hands left Clarke’s hips that held her up while the fingers on his other hand dug into her, roughly, definitely going to leave a bruise. She’s going to need cover up for the beach the rest of the week. Bellamy pushed into her suddenly and Clarke mewled. _Fuck, was he big,_ she smirked.

“God, you’re tight,” he said sounding... pleased, steadying himself, letting her adjust to his girth, but Clarke groaned, needing more. Bellamy chuckled, “Greedy princess.”

He pulled out before slamming back into her, Clarke rolled her hips, causing more friction and Bellamy spanked her. “No, this is mine,” he growled, slamming into her again.

Clarke couldn’t help biting the white bed sheets, trying to muffle her own wanting and need to help. This was a new position for her, Finn never…always wanting eye contact, to make that deeper connection. But this was Bellamy and this was just sex.

“Fuck, princess, do you even know how tight you are? How _wet?_ How hot it is that you’re holding back just because I told you to?”

Clarke groaned back through the sheet, Bellamy spanked her again before massaging her sore ass cheek. The stimulation, the pleasure of the pain, took Clarke by surprise and she tried hiding her pleasure because it’s Bellamy and it’s a new sensation for her.

“Like when I spank you princess?” he asked, driving deeply into Clarke quicker, rougher. “You’re a dirty girl aren’t you? Yeah, you are. You’d probably come just from a spanking while thrown over my lap.”

Bellamy stifled back a groan at the thought. “You gotta come, baby. You have to before I do, because I’m going to. Are you almost there?”

Clarke couldn’t respond, she wanted to but there was a lump in her throat that stopped her. That caused Bellamy to wrap one of his hands in her hair and yank her head off the mattress, bracing herself on her shoulders, sending another round of pleasure to Clarke’s core.

That was what she was waiting for.

Clarke moaned. “Good, girl,” Bellamy praised. “Now answer me.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke whined, grinding back against him.

“That’s good, baby, come for me,” he said pulling her hair, jarring her neck back, the euphoric flutter of her nerves sent Clarke over the edge.

Clarke gasped, and bucked, grinding back against Bellamy inside her, causing him to do the same, quickening his thrusts as Clarke’s walls fluttered and pulsed around his member.

“Fuck,” he muttered against Clarke’s shoulder, she felt him come inside her and she panicked, condom. She didn’t have a confirmation.

Bellamy breathed against Clarke’s shoulder for a moment before standing and pulling out from Clarke’s heat.

“You good?” he asked her as she laid there, trying to work up the strength to stand after the best sex of her life.

“Yeah,” Clarke breathed, rolling over to see Bellamy taking the full condom off his semi-erect cock, pointedly avoiding eye contact still.

“Still hate me?” Bellamy smirked, tying the condom before grabbing his clothes to go into the bathroom.

“Probably more. You know, they probably heard us.”

“Are you ashamed of me, Griffin? I’m hurt,” the sarcasm penetrated the door, causing Clarke to roll her eyes.

She stood, wrapping the robe back around her before trying the door again. It opened with ease and she wanted to curse Harper and Miller. Heading directly to her suitcase, she pulled on her underwear and black skinny jeans and a low cut grey v-neck top before the cork wedges that Octavia was envious of.

Grabbing her purse she headed down the hall to the elevator to go down to dinner with her friends. Looking in the mirror in the elevator she realized she had sex hair thanks to Bellamy’s incessant yanking and burying her face in the mattress, Clarke pulled it back into a messy bun before the doors opened and she walked across the lobby to the restaurant to find the long table in the back with two empty seats. Every face that saw her walk in was smirking.

“How long was it unlocked?” she asked sitting between Raven and Lincoln, Octavia on his other side.

“Forty-five minutes?” Miller and Harper asked each other.

“You guys locked us in there for two hours!”

“Thought it’d work, but then we heard you snoring and yeah, we tried to get you guys to talk but I guess sleeping is better than arguing.”

“You guys suck!”

Bellamy walked in just then, his hair was tugged on, meaning he was pissed about something now. He was fine when Clarke left five minutes ago.

They didn’t make eye contact for the rest of the trip, even during their heated arguments that seemed to have worsened since their night together that Clarke wished was alcohol induced, the amount they drank before didn’t do anything to her, she wasn’t even tipsy, just tired.

On the plane home she was seated in a row with Bellamy and Miller, smack dab between them but once on board Miller switched with her to minimize the arguments that would probably ensue between her and Bellamy.

* * *

# YEAR FOUR

“This paper on the Byzantine empire is kicking my ass, please help!” Clarke said quickly once the door of Bellamy’s apartment was open, hoping he wouldn’t slam it in her face.

“You’re like tenth in your class, Griffin, I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Your help would move me up to ninth. Please, Bellamy,” she said, knowing he couldn’t resist her begging. They still fought like cats and dogs but there was some new form of cordial respect in their disagreements now and Clarke refused to admit that it had anything to do with hate sex. Can you dream about hate sex without it meaning more?

“Fine, come on,” he let her into the apartment where she sat on the couch, putting the football game on mute so he could still follow along if he wanted. “What exactly do you need help with?” he asked as he sat down next to Clarke.

Clarke was pulling out her MacBook Air and textbook, avoiding eye contact, they can’t do that again. She’s dreamt of that March afternoon too many times. “The fall of the Byzantine empire.”

“Oh, you really don’t know that?”

“I don’t know how to expand upon it, you know? History isn’t where my knowledge lies, you can ask me about art and science history and I can tell you all about it, but empires, wars, rulers, I draw a blank,” Clarke exaggerated, she knows about the last three hundred or so years, she’s good at that but before the seventeenth century, she’s practically useless. She also knew that it was Bellamy’s forte, so he’s the obvious choice to ask for help.

* * *

Two hours later Clarke’s paper was at least worthy of an A-minus, maybe an A if Wallace was in a good mood. They can't shock him too much when Clarke usually gets B-pluses on her history papers.

“Thank you, Bellamy,” she said, packing her laptop back into her back pack.

“You do realize that this is the longest we haven’t fought since we met,” Bellamy smiled.

“Officially met, there might be hope for us, yet.”

Bellamy nodded, his knee bouncing, Clarke took note of it as she placed her bag back on the floor, she couldn’t assume it was because he’s having the same thoughts she was about last March.

“Sorry I made you miss the game.”

“The Panthers will play the Falcons again next year, no big deal.”

“Where are Miller and Murphy?”

“Work, they won’t be home for a few more hours,” he said to the TV, his white knuckles gripped his thighs. Clarke wondered if he was holding something back. What? She didn’t— _fuck,_ she thought realizing how damp her panties were, how much Bellamy talking about history turned her on.

 _This isn’t happening again, he’s Octavia’s asshole of a brother, I already feel guilty about Spring Break, I can’t add this to the list_ , she thought.

“Bellamy,” she said and she immediately knew she shouldn’t have, her voice was too low and unsteady.

He looked over at her, his pupils blown and his breath hitched and Clarke knew he felt the same, he’s horrible at hiding it. “We can’t. You regret it, you fought with me more. This—“

Clarke smirked, knowing exactly where he was going so she stood, looking down at him. “Shut up, Bellamy,” she sighed, climbing into his lap, straddling him.

Leaning down, Clarke pressed her lips to Bellamy’s keeping the kiss slow and languid and Bellamy finally held her waist as his tongue delve into her mouth, needing more but pulled away.

“Is this what you’ve been after all afternoon?”

“I’m a horny undergrad, Blake, not a moron. I know all about the Byzantine empire.”

“Okay, smarty pants, since you know so much then how’d it start?” Bellamy asked and Clarke quickly debated if it’s a turn on for him, which—of course—it is.

“In 330 AD, Roman emperor Constantine the first of his name, dedicated a “new Rome” on the site of Byzantium, an ancient Greek colony,” Clarke whispered, kissing a line down from his earlobe to his collarbone. “One hundred and forty or so years later the western half of Rome fell while the East, Byzantine, survived and prospered for a thousand years,” she whispered between kisses, unbuttoning his pants.

Bellamy groaned, “You’re so using me for both my brain and my body.”

“Do you care?”

“Not right now, come on, Griffin, it’s like you’ve never undressed a man before and I can’t believe you dressed appropriately with a fucking skirt, I wanted to tear it off of you since opening the door.”

“So dirty talk is a constant with you,” Clarke stated, not minding it at all.

“Wait, what?”

“You are aware that everything you think during sex is said out loud, you just said you’ve been dying to rip my skirt off since I got here.”

“I was unaware, do you mind?”

“Nope, I just thought it was a dominance thing last time, I didn’t think… this is awkward,” Clarke huffed, trying to get off of Bellamy but his grip on her hips tightened.

The smirk that frequently paraded his face grew more mischievous. “Sex between…non-friends isn’t awkward.”

“Saying that is awkward.”

“What if I told you that I’ve wanted to fuck you again ever since March?”

“An awkward turn on,” Clarke gasped as Bellamy’s thumb dug into the sensitive flesh by her pelvis that drove her absolutely wild. “Condom?”

“This was your idea, Princess, you should’ve brought one.”

“How many girls do you sleep with, Blake? I assumed you’d have some,” Clarke smirked before pulling a condom out of her bra.

“Classy, babe,” Bellamy chuckled as Clarke finished unzippering his pants.

Within a minute, Clarke was sinking herself down onto Bellamy’s thick, latex-clad shaft. Adjusting to his size, because _damn_. She started off slow, getting accustom to the couch’s springs that didn’t give her much leverage, even with Bellamy’s hands on her hips keeping her steady.

“Your couch sucks,” she commented, defeated, after a few minutes of truly horrid…bouncing?

“Craigslist,” Bellamy countered with a groan as Clarke ground down on him. “Fuck, you’re right, I can’t do this anymore. Hop off but stay bent over the couch.”

Clarke smirks knowing where he was going with it as she slung her leg over him so he could get up. Clarke braced her knees on the edge of the cushions, bracing her elbows on the back as Bellamy grabbed her waist again, aligning himself with her core.

This time was rougher, more frantic, a desperate need for human connection. Bellamy’s grasp was tighter, his bites on her shoulders and hips bruising. His grasp on her hair a sharp tingle on her scalp as he pulled her into a rough kiss over her shoulder. Clarke reveled in every moment, having orgasm after orgasm with Bellamy egging her on until he slumped over her back after a breathless groan, telling her he finally came, his sweaty back stuck to her own as they adjusted into a more comfortable position. Bellamy stroked Clarke’s sweaty curls back away from his face as they laid on the couch together.

“I hate you,” he whispered into her hair.

Clarke chuckled, “Why now?”

“We’ve had sex twice and I haven’t fondled your tits.”

Clarke erupted into laughter. “You’re ridiculous!”

“I’m serious, there’s usually some heavy petting before I fuck a girl senseless.”

“My senses are intact, no thanks to you.”

“Are you challenging me?” Bellamy asked, pinching Clarke’s waist causing her to squeal and elbow him in retaliation.

“A sex challenge? Sorry to burst your bubble, Blake, but this was a one— _two_ —time thing,” she said reminding herself that they’ve done it before, not that she could really forget.

“Ugh, now you really are using me.”

Clarke scoffed, getting up, “Please, like you weren’t using me in March.”

Bellamy grimaced, “So we’re even now? I used you, now you used me?”

“If only that were how the world worked, Blake.”

Clarke saw Bellamy watching her put her shoes on, like he didn’t want her to leave but he had nothing left for her. They hate each other. Having hate sex with Bellamy was somehow making Clarke hate herself.

* * *

Two weeks later, Octavia was turning twenty-one and wanted to celebrate it right, deciding to go to Azgeda, the local dive bar just off campus. All their friends were there, including the ever elusive Bryan, Miller’s boyfriend. Clarke was skeptical and overprotective of Miller before realizing she was acting like Bellamy when he found out about Octavia and Lincoln.

Clarke was talking to Raven about the stereo in her car when Finn and another guy Raven knew walked into the bar, distracting her. Clarke went up to the bar ordering another beer when Bellamy leans against it next to her.

“When was the last time a man propositioned you in a bar?” he asked casually.

“Does right now count?” she smirked, wanting it, though it could have been the four shots of tequila talking.

“Cleaver, and yes.”

“Your place or mine? Though both will be full of our friends by the end of the night.”

“Yours. The apartment is too far away and walk of shames are practically customary at the dorms.”

Clarke had to agree, she’s seen so many over the years at the dorms that she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to sleep through the night without hearing at least one door slam throughout the night. “You leave in five and I’ll leave a little after.”

Bellamy nodded, “One condition.”

“You can do whatever you want to my tits,” Clarke smirked.

That was the beginning of Clarke and Bellamy’s top secret sexcapades that, of course, end in disaster.

They were decent at keeping it a secret. That was until Clarke realized that whenever they were all hanging out at Azgeda, she would get jealous of whichever girl talked to Bellamy when it was his turn to grab a round of drinks. He always went home with her, occasionally that meant the back of his pick up, but she didn’t mind as long as she heard Bellamy whisper “Fuck, baby, just like that,” while she rolled her hips down into him.

And Clarke always made it a point to never stay the whole night at Bellamy’s apartment, partly because she had early classes and afternoon labs but also because she occasionally talks in her sleep, usually something to do with the dream she was having but never remembered once she woke up.

So when she was shaken awake one March morning just after spring break by a pissed off Bellamy, Clarke was 1. Horrified and 2. Confused about A. where she was and B. why Bellamy was yelling at her at seven in the morning.

“When did you sleep with him?” he spat at her.

“What? Who? Where?” Clarke asked all at once, not entirely sure what was going on.

“Cage Wallace.”

Clarke rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, blinking at Bellamy’s shirtless state, another reason she doesn’t stay at his apartment until the morning, naked Bellamy was Clarke’s favorite Bellamy and she would stay in bed all day with naked Bellamy. “I don’t—Wallace, the professor?”

“His douche-face of a son, Clarke!” he roared, taking Clarke aback.

“I—I don’t think I did. I—I’m—I’m sure I didn’t. Where the hell is this coming from, Bellamy?”

“When did you sleep with him?”

“You’re the only person I’ve had sex with since the summer. Now we didn’t say that we were exclusive so you’re free to screw whomever you want. I’m still a busy as hell undergrad, having a steady hook up has been great!”

“Hook up?” he asked as though it was dirty. He hooked up all the time, he's the Hook Up King.

“Bellamy, I’m not—you’re my best friend, somehow over this lart year I’ve stopped hating you and actually like you. Maybe this, sex, is getting in the way of our friendship.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Clarke didn’t realize it until a few hours later that Bellamy was acting jealous. She didn’t remember her dream but she’s certain that she wasn’t having a sex dream about _Cage Wallace_ , whoever that was, because the only sex dreams Clarke has were about Bellamy. He’s ruined her for anyone else.

She decided to give him a few days to calm down, to…she didn’t know but was this how love is? Just wanting to be with the other person no matter what? Wanting to comfort them? It wasn’t like that with Finn, was this really what it’s like? An ache in your heart knowing that you hurt them and you can’t fix it?

Clarke decided to skip her afternoon lab to see Bellamy before his shift at the Dropship. She waited at the door after knocking and when the door finally swung open, Miller was in the doorway.

“Clarke, what are you doing here?”

“Is Bellamy here?”

“I thought—uh, no. He’s not,” Miller blinked, looking uncomfortable.

“Then can I wait here for him?”

“I don’t know how long he’s going to be.”

“What the fuck, Miller, why are you acting so weird?” Clarke demanded, pushing her way into the apartment. Something was off and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Bellamy moved, to New York.”

“What?” Clarke asked, sure she didn’t hear him correctly as her heart plummeted. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I didn’t know you’d care?”

“Are you—how didn’t you know?”

“You never stayed the night, Clarke. You always left afterwards, you made it just sex so that’s what Bellamy thought. Just sex, but it wasn’t for him. How didn’t you know?”

“I’m busy trying to get into medical school, Miller.”

“Why is that? You’re an amazing artist, you have a voice, you draw the pain and joy in people’s eyes simultaneously. You pegged Bellamy in them so how didn’t you see that he’d fallen for you?”

“I—“ Clarke’s eyes pooled with unfallen tears, the tears she’d usually cry once she’d gotten back to her dorm after a night with Bellamy because she wanted more. Of course she’d wanted more with him, she’d be an idiot not to. “I was trying not to fall for him. That distance, not _sleeping_ with him was a wall that kept me from my feelings. Fuck!”

“Clarke, how long have I known you?”

“Thirteen years.”

“And in those thirteen years, how many times have I called you an idiot?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Many.”

“Okay, how many times did I actually mean it?”

“Never.”

“Well I’m saying it with meaning now, you’re a fucking idiot.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but knew Miller was right but she couldn’t do anything about it, not until graduation.

* * *

“Is Bellamy coming to see you graduate?” Clarke asked Octavia one night at the end of April, they’d usually be celebrating his birthday that weekend. She’d sent him a text but he didn’t respond. He never responded to her texts.

“No, he’s working that Friday and Monday and though he’d have loved to, it wasn’t in the budget and he’d probably be grading tests the entire visit aside from the ceremony.”

“Why didn’t you ask me, I’ll pay for him to come!”

“You’re being nice to Bellamy?” Octavia frowned, putting her pen down to look at Clarke.

“Why is that such a shocker? I miss him, okay, I like disagreeing with him.”

“Clarke, you were a mess the first week he was gone, you can tell me.”

“Tell you what, Octavia? That I might have fallen in love with him? I don’t know that because he isn’t here, is he?”

“That’s not at all where I thought this was going. You always fought with him, how could you—oh my God! When did you sleep with him?”

“Octavia—“

“No, Clarke, that’s the only logical explanation. You slept with my brother.”

“It happened more than once.”

“Don’t tell me it’s been all year bec—you were both blissfully single and kept telling me to stop trying to set you up with people! Jesus, you’re both idiots! Blitzed out of your mind idiots!”

“I have finals and then graduation which if he’s not coming here then I’m going there. Could you just say that you got the money for him to come because he won’t take it from me. Not after Puerto Rico.”

“Fucking idiots,” Octavia sighed, packing her bag to go take her art final.

I’m serious, O. Don’t tell him I’m paying.”

“Okay, I heard you.”

* * *

Clarke understood Bellamy not wanting to take “Octavia’s” money because he didn’t know it was Clarke’s. he didn’t want to be that charity he thinks she thinks he is, but Clarke doesn’t see Bellamy as a charity, how could she with how stubborn he is about everything, especially money. So Clarke, needing to see him, hopped on the first flight to New York after graduation, not caring about the price or how much the taxi would cost to get to his place because she had a trust fund that she could be frivolous with every once in a while.

Clarke paid for the cab, the driver telling her the address was across the street but it was a one way so he had to let her out on the opposite side. Clarke was about to cross when the door opened on the building that claimed to hold her heart, whether he knew it or not. There he was in that black shirt that showcased his biceps, it made his hair stand out more as well as his freckles, needless to say, he got significantly hotter, which Clarke thought would’ve been difficult already. Then a woman with brown curls stepped out behind him and she said something Clarke couldn’t hear but Bellamy laughed before taking her hand and lead the woman down the stairs. They walked down the sidewalk hand in hand and Clarke couldn’t help but watch after them.

Bellamy was happy with her, he’s not thinking about Clarke, he never did, Clarke realized before turning and heading the opposite way of him and the woman.

Clarke went back to the airport and got on the next flight back to Arkadia, trying to hold her heart together as it was breaking in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what a NARB is, [click here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKLsUZSbLWc) to find out.


	3. Years 5 & 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year 5 Part 1: Bellamy's POV (Gina & NYC)  
> Year 5 Part 2: Clarke's POV (Lexa & Polis)  
> Now, not a big fan of either relationship but I hope I did them justice.
> 
> Year 6: Depression, and , well, the term that I want to use gives the whole premise away and I don't want that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things, I am SO sorry about how late this is! :( Life has been a clusterfuck of late. That is one of my favorite words and I'm surprised that I haven't used it in a fic as of yet... huh, thinking that one over and am disappointed in myself :P
> 
> Anyway, apparently there's a continuity error with Wells' death, I said that he was in a fatal plane crash with his mother and Jake Griffin and there were no survivors, which was true. The plane crashed in a relatively suburban area so it was quickly found. Wells's mother was dead before the paramedics arrived, Jake died on the way to the hospital and Wells was in a coma in the ICU for two weeks before Thelonious ultimately decided with all the information the doctors gave him that Wells's odds of waking up were slim to none and chose to take him off the machine that was breathing for him and essentially keeping him alive.

# YEAR FIVE

# BELLAMY

Bellamy didn’t think love was in the cards for him, not after his childhood. Watching his mom with a different man constantly, not knowing which one was Octavia’s father when it came time to write a name on the birth certificate and leaving her name in Bellamy’s hand. “Your sister, your responsibility,” Aurora Blake told a six-year-old Bellamy before falling asleep after giving birth. Bellamy only knew about the stories she told him about the Greek gods and goddesses, the myths and history of the Greek and Roman empires. Octavia, born in August, was the first thing that Bellamy thought of. The month was named after the emperor who had a sister named Octavia, giving name to the month October. Even as a kid, Bellamy loved history, but growing up not knowing what love was, made Bellamy believe that he’d never learn what it felt like but definitely knew that it wasn’t jumping from one girl to another.

That was the Arkadia Bellamy, New York Bellamy, maybe that version could love, maybe Gina Martin was his person. Actually, he’s pretty sure she was. They’ve been together practically since he moved into his Bushwick apartment, okay, he was living with three other teachers from the school he worked at, but they’re cool guys, Bellamy’s rent money helping them out a lot.

Gina was the bartender at the bar his roommates dragged Bellamy to after he survived his first week teaching insubordinate tenth and eleventh graders. She was nice, she helped Bellamy forget about a particular blonde that didn’t give a shit about him. She acted like she was worried about being just another notch in his bed post but that’s just what he was to her. Sure, he missed her, wrote endless texts in response to the ones she’d sent, keeping him updated on their friends and while he appreciated them, appreciated her thinking about him, she didn’t feel the same.

The texts that hurt the most were the ones she sent late at night. They were about her, how dare he not say goodbye, how could he? Why didn’t he tell her about the job? About moving to New York? And the one that stung the most was the one he got right after he’d sent the care package of corny New York tourist shit to their friends, personalized for each person, but he couldn’t put hers in the box, he couldn’t act like they were okay. The sapphire necklace he spent a whole paycheck on would tell everyone that they were more than just friends. _Fuck you, Bellamy._ The text was from four months ago, sitting unopened on his phone still. Opening it made it real.

He remembered Octavia’s phone call like it was yesterday, _“You’re a fucking asshole, big brother. If you weren’t my only family, I’d disown you.”_

_“What the hell are you talking about? You don’t like the butterfly?”_

_“I love the butterfly. Jasper loves the indie hip-hop CD. Monty loves the shot glass and is now working on a logo for his brewery to send one back to you. Miller loves his freedom tower, both Monty’s and the statue you sent.”_

_Bellamy laughed as Octavia continued, “Raven loves the Top of the Rock ornament, though it’s not Christmas, it’s engineering which is our Raven. They love their gifts but it’s an asshole move making it blatantly obvious that Clarke didn’t get one. She sat there watching us all open our presents with that practiced fake smile on. What the hell happened between you two in New York?”_

_“What the hell are you talking about? Clarke was never here!”_

_“She spent Memorial Day weekend with you, Shumway, Dax, and Atom.”_

_“She was never here, O. I think that I’d remember her being here.”_

_“I dropped her off at the airport myself. She was there, Bellamy.”_

_“O, she wasn’t—Clarke was here?” Bellamy sighed in realization. She came for him?_

_“Yes.”_

_“I—she didn’t come see me. I—fuck!”_

_“Wait, so you’re saying that Clarke made up a whole story about her weekend up there with you? Why would she do that?”_

_“I was with Gina Memorial Day, I—she saw me leave with Gina. Fuck! If I knew she was there—“_

_“She wanted to surprise you. Fuck, Bell, she loves you. Fuck knows why.”_

_“I’m with Gina,” he said._

_“Yeah,_ now, _not last month when Clarke went to see you!”_

_“Clarke loves me?”_

_Octavia scoffed, “You’re a fucking idiot, Bell.” His sister hung up the phone._

“You okay?” Gina asked with a wide smile. She’s always smiling.

Bellamy was sitting at the dining room table at her apartment, grading papers. There’s more room there, he doesn’t have to fight for grading space like he did at his place. “Yeah, just thinking about Octavia.”

“Well, why don’t we go down for Christmas?” she offered, her attention going back to making dinner. “I’ve never been to Virginia and I’ve been dying to meet everyone you talk about!”

Alarms went off in Bellamy’s head, _Clarke_ , he’s never talked about Clarke, “And how are we going to afford that? It’s not like I have enough to spare for one plane ticket, let alone two.”

“You forget that I have that sexual harassment settlement that I haven’t touched. Two tickets won’t make a dent in the money.”

Bellamy shook his head. “And God forbid something happens to you and you don’t have that cushion to fall back on. Gina, I couldn’t let you do that.”

Gina wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s neck, “I’m not going to argue because they’re your friends and family, and you can introduce me when you’re ready to.”

“Thank you, babe,” Bellamy tilted his head back for a kiss, Gina obliging.

 _Normal, this is normal,_ Bellamy told himself as he went back to grading.

* * *

“Why did she do that?”

“It’s not like she settled, she—she…huh, she did kind of settle. You’re right,” Bellamy said thinking about it.

“And you’re not doing that with me?”

Bellamy looked into the soft, golden brown eyes watching him, “Why would you ever think that?”

Gina smiled widely before popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“You’re wicked,” Bellamy smiled launching a full-on assault, tickling the beautiful girl now laying on the couch.

“I have a present for you!” she screamed between a heaving breath and laugh.

Bellamy pushed off her, sitting back on his heels with a look of surprise all over his face. “We said no presents.”

“I—I know, I saw it and thought of you.”

“Good, because I got you something too, but I didn’t want to if you weren’t going to.”

“Oh, sure, make me be the one to break the agreement. Now you get nothing,” Gina smiled, getting up and walking to the kitchen, Bellamy’s eyes trailing after her.

He got up and walked into his room and pulled the gift out of his nightstand, going back into the kitchen to see Gina standing on the opposite side of the table with a copy of the Iliad wrapped with a red ribbon. “You win,” Bellamy smiled shaking his head.

“It’s not a competition. Though, if you can’t wrap, Blake, you should take a page out of my book and just use a ribbon.”

“And fuck up the bow? No, you get shitty newspaper wrapping and a pretty press-on bow. We equally suck, I’m calling it a draw.”

Gina walked around the table and wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s waist. “I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

“Neither was I.”

“Bullshit, you tend to forget that I know you, Bellamy Blake.”

 _Gina Blake, sounds better than—why am I thinking about her right now?_ Bellamy asked himself and Gina noticed his disappearance.

“Thinking about Octavia?”

“Haven’t been away from her for this long since my last tour.”

“Planes fly both ways.”

“Yeah, well, if she comes here she’s going to want to talk about things that I don’t want to talk about.”

“Lincoln?”

“Partly.”

“Honesty, Blake,” Gina said seriously. She never calls him Blake unless he’s hiding or evading or blatantly lying. He hates it.

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“You don’t talk about Afghanistan either and you talked around it earlier, what could be worse than what you witnessed over there?”

“You’re opening a can of worms.”

“I’m in this, Bellamy. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Her name is Clarke and I hated her stuck up ass. Called her Princess to her face out of spite…”

Bellamy told Gina the whole story, the four years he had of Clarke Griffin. He didn’t tell her about the texts that ended six months ago or how he looks at the unopened text when his day was going too well, just to remind him that he’s still fucked up over her or the small box with a sapphire necklace in the back of his closet inside the old pair of Nikes she’d bought him when she learned he went out to run at five in the morning, a habit he’s quit since moving.

“She was here Memorial Day?” she asked once he’d gotten to the end.

“O called me and told me a month later. I—she saw us leaving here and thought we were what we are now.”

“We weren’t then. She didn’t say anything?”

“We had a fight the last time we spoke. We didn’t—I was going to tell her about the job that day but we fought instead and I’m here with you and I’m happy.”

“I always wondered why you’re so stressed out. You don’t have closure with her.”

“Don’t go all mind, body, and spirit on me, please. I don’t need closure on something that didn’t exist.”

“Bellamy, honey, I woke you up in the middle of the night on the hottest night of the summer just to tell you that if we weren’t in a definitive relationship, that I’m walking. You were being you with me then as you were with her. I’m not saying that you were right and she was wrong, but maybe she was just as afraid to voice her feelings as you were.”

“And now that we’ve ruined Christmas, maybe you could open your present.”

“Your honesty wasn’t my present?” Gina asked before jokingly snatching the gift from Bellamy’s hand and tore the newspaper wrapping apart.

She stood frozen with the little box in her hand, staring at it and Bellamy wondered if he’d royally fucked up.

“Did I get the wrong one?”

Gina shook her head quickly, wrapping her arms around Bellamy again, squeezing him tight. “Thank you.”

Bellamy didn’t know the significance of the tchotchke but Gina went on and on about it one day and he couldn’t forget it. The little clown will stare at him forever and he only has himself to blame.

* * *

Bellamy loved his job but hated New York winters, the gigantic windows in his classroom were drafty and covered with lime and calcium from the rain and snow dripping off the roof and down the sides of the building. Not that he should complain because the view wasn’t too spectacular, not like his office at Arkadia U with the rolling mountains and the trees and grass. God, did Bellamy miss nature. Arcadia was the epitome of nature, no matter where you looked, every building looked as though it belonged there, blurred into the landscape and man, did he want to go back. He hates the city, hates how used to the hustle and bustle of everybody. Knowing when to step out in the street when the red hand was completely solid and just enough time before the oncoming car.

Bellamy hated New York.

Once he’d realized it, nearly ten months after his arrival, he wished he hadn’t done it at all. Wished he’d stayed in Arkadia, wished he’d known why Clarke flew six hundred miles to see him.

But then reality slapped him in the face as hard as possible when he answered his phone at the end of last period on the cold January day, the first school day after winter recess.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Bellamy Blake?”

“Who’s asking?” he responded sharply, hating this phone game.

“Doctor Hayworth, I work at Brooklyn Hospital, are you aware that you’re the emergency contact for Gina Martin?”

Bellamy’s thoughts swirled around in his brain. Gina. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“Is there any way that you could come to the hospital? She’s in critical condition and currently in surgery.”

“I—I just got out of work, I can be there in—in twenty minutes.”

“I’m in the ER, go there when you arrive. I’ll explain everything.”

“Dr. Hayworth,” Bellamy repeated, frozen. He couldn’t move.

Bellamy arrived at the hospital and found Dr. Hayworth fairly easily, she was at the front desk expecting him.

“Mr. Blake?” she asked as Bellamy read her name badge.

“Only my students call me that, I’m Bellamy.”

“Come with me, we’ll find someplace quiet to talk.”

He nodded following her through the hospital to a small, empty room with children’s toys.

“Bellamy, I know that this is a difficult time but I have quite a few things that I have to make you aware of.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say, how to respond.

“I’ll just begin. About an hour ago Gina Martin was brought into the hospital with third degree burns covering seventy percent of her body. There was a fire that spread quickly through the bar she was working at and we don’t know how much smoke she inhaled. The firemen didn’t find her until the fire was out, they thought they grabbed everyone but realized they didn’t. She’s barely breathing and in very bad shape. If she makes it through surgery, there might be a five percent chance that she survives.”

“You’re saying there’s no hope?”

“I’m saying that the chances of her coming out of this is very slim,” Dr. Hayworth told him.

“So don’t get my hopes up?”

“Correct,” she said solemnly and Bellamy dropped his face into his hands, waiting to hear about the surgery and not knowing what else to do.

* * *

“Uh, cremation?” Bellamy whispered after the lawyer said it.

“That’s what she wants.”

His heart plummeted, he shouldn’t be the one to do this. Where is her family? “And then scattered into the East River?”

“Yes.”

“And her money?”

“A majority of it is going to charities and what’s left over is yours. She left everything to you.”

“Wha—why?”

“She didn’t have a family. You were her family.”

“I didn’t—“

“It was a recent change, about a month ago. Everything went to charities but she came to me a month ago asking to add you in. You don’t get too much but it’s—“

“Give it to whichever charity she took it from. I don’t want her money.”

“What about her books? She left you her books.”

“I’ll look through them. Where’s her family?”

“She’s never brought them up if they’re still around,” the lawyer said and Bellamy nodded.

“Okay, so no funeral, per her request. Cremation and scattered over the East River.”

“I arranged them to send you her ashes to scatter. She should arrive in a couple days.”

“Okay,” Bellamy grimaced. He didn't know what to think what to feel. No, he didn't want to feel anything because his heart _ached_.

“What should we do about her apartment?”

“Good Will? I don't… I don't know, I never had to do this, my mother was buried before I got home and I haven't even known Gina a year yet.”

The next month was a blur to Bellamy. The teacher he was subbing for notified the school of her return, Bellamy scattered Gina’s ashes over the Manhattan bridge. Professor Wallace called telling him that he was retiring and demanded to be able to choose his replacement, Bellamy. He lost a job but gained one in August. Back home with his sister and friends… and her. She’s the one thing holding him back. He just lost Gina, what kind of person does that make him that he’s thinking about another girl barely two weeks after his girlfriend passed?

Bellamy stuck around a month after the job ended, finding out that there wasn’t a room in his old apartment for him because of Monty and Jasper moved in. So it was decided that Bellamy would sleep on the couch until Raven moved to San Francisco at the end of March. Three weeks on the couch, he managed and he hated it but he was happy to be home again. These were his people.

“Where’s Clarke?” he asked Raven one night at a bar his first week back, a welcome home of sorts.

“Um, we don’t exactly know. She stopped talking to us all a few months after she moved to Polis. She visited for a while, brought her girlfriend with her, but never invited us there. Then everything stopped, she didn’t respond to texts or calls so we kind of gave up. We still care about her but she isn’t trying anymore.”

“I hurt her.”

“ _You_ are hurting, you just—“ Raven sighed. “Yeah, you hurt her and you kept doing it all summer. I’m not blaming you for leaving, it was an opportunity to practice your major. And now you’re going to be a professor at your alma mater. You should be somewhat happy.”

“I miss Gina, she was the best—she was what I needed. I needed someone who considered me their equal and she did. Clarke was using me. I was a _steady hook up_ ,” Bellamy told her, the words still tasted sour.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Raven shook her head and walked away.

* * *

Bellamy was _finally_ sleeping in a bed, in his own room. Granted he wasn’t too happy about moving in with his sister and her boyfriend but when there wasn’t another option, Bellamy didn’t have much of a choice.

And it was good, they didn’t do anything to make him want to kill Lincoln and if they did they were too quiet for him to hear, he appreciated that.

One Wednesday night in May, Bellamy didn’t have a shift at the bar so he was home, Octavia and Lincoln were out celebrating one of his friend’s birthdays so Bellamy had the apartment to himself for the first time. He was watching a documentary in his sweatpants and a t-shirt when there was a knock on the door. Miller and Murphy would call, Monty wouldn’t go to him and Jasper would text or sing a Violent Femmes song through the door because he truly is that weird and caught Bellamy singing along to that _one_ song a few years back. Who the hell could it be?

He opened the door and gaped at the person in shock. It couldn’t be. How did she know where he was, how did she know he was back? Why in the hell were there tears streaming down her face?

“Bellamy,” she sighed, just as surprised as him. His heart broke all over again, just when he finally thought he’d had it mended. She swooped in and broke it all over again with just the uttering of his name.

* * *

 

# YEAR FIVE

# CLARKE

Clarke wanted to hate Bellamy Blake more than anything in the world. She’d somehow fallen in love with him without even knowing until the day when Miller told her Bellamy had moved to New York. She wanted to hate him when she saw him with that girl in New York. And she wanted to hate him when he’d sent them all a care package and everyone got something but her. She wanted to hate that he didn’t text her back, that he never answered her calls, that he never called her back. But no matter how much Clarke Griffin wanted to hate Bellamy Blake, the more reasons her mind gave her to love him.

Clarke loved how Bellamy had dropped everything to raise Octavia once their mother died. How hard he worked for his degrees. How he mothered all their friends, making sure everyone got home safe after a night of drunken debauchery. How he knew just how to make her feel good. How he could tell she was getting bored from a position before she’d even said something and switched it up. How he stroked the bottom of her spine just after sex as he held her close, knowing it soothed her, kept her brain from turning back on for a few extra minutes.

But the longer Clarke dwelled on Bellamy Blake that summer after graduation the more depressed she’d gotten and she decided that instead of driving from her condo in Arkadia to her job in Polis, she’d just move to Polis. Walk to and from work instead of an hour drive. Get away from the memories of Bellamy for a while. She needed that.

Clarke tends to work late at the gallery, getting the exhibits set up and working the opening nights that it made meeting people rather difficult. But after busting her butt for six weeks, she finally had a Saturday night off and instead of going back to Arkadia and Azgeda Bar with her friends, she decided to go to Polaris, this ultra-fine wine bar that she heard people gushing over at an opening a few weeks back.

Clarke chose a merlot and tried pretending to know what she was doing when a gorgeous woman sauntered up to her and chuckled. “Fake it til you make it?”

“That obvious?”

“Only to me.”

“I watched my mother growing up but never had a chance to practice and refine the art,” Clarke told the woman earnestly.

“I’m Lexa, my coworkers brought me here after my first week as a prank. I spent the three minutes that we waited for a cab to watch one of the women at the other end of the bar to know what to do. Came off as a pro, they think I’m sophisticated and refined when, in reality, I’m from a small country town they’ve never even heard of.”

“Ah, I’m a politician’s kid, I was raised as refined and sophisticated but luckily I went to a third-rate college in a small town and I’m somewhat normal now.”

“Trying to get that sophisticated edge back though?”

“Yes and no, my friends would hate it here but it reminds me of where I’m from. Whoever said nostalgia is a bad thing?”

“Idiots. What’s your name?”

“I’m sorry. Clarke. See, lost my sophistication in college,” Clarke joked. Was she flirting? Does Clarke know how to flirt? What is going on?

“Clarke is a strange name.”

“My father’s favorite author, people assume it was my mother’s maiden name.”

“Good parents?”

“The best they could be,” Clarke grimaced, looking at the wine glass in her hand. Why had she come here? Why didn’t she choose a normal bar with tequila?

“If I asked you out would you tell me more or just enough that it’ll keep me intrigued and wanting more?”

“Both,” Clarke smirked.

“Alright,” Lexa smiled and handed Clarke her phone. “I’ll call you?”

Clarke typed in her number and the correct spelling of her name just in case Lexa never heard of Arthur C. Clarke before handing the phone back.

* * *

Over the next few months Lexa and Clarke became inseparable, it was nauseating. Lexa went to Arkadia to meet Clarke’s friends twice. Spent her spare time at Clarke’s art shows. She’d become Clarke’s muse in every piece there was Lexa in some way. But Clarke also realized that she didn’t know too much about her girlfriend.

Clarke mixed some of her older pieces in with her new Lexa inspired work and was confused as to why her older pieces were the ones that caught people’s eye more than the ones since she’d moved to Polis. She was grateful that the old memories that stung her whenever she looked at the older pieces were gone and she could pretend none of it happened. That _he_ didn’t exist. But there was that one piece in the back of a closet that she’s never shown anyone, the one she went to when she did remember, when she wanted to be heartbroken, wanted to feel _something_.

Clarke hung out with Lexa’s lawyer friends because it was easier than driving to Arkadia to see her own. They were happy, or so Clarke thought until she woke up next to Lexa’s corpse. Clarke sat there frozen, not knowing what to do for the first time in her life.

She finally called 9-1-1 and they dispatched someone and told Clarke that Lexa had Lymphoma and she’s known about it, it’s been a long fight since she was twenty and didn’t tell Clarke. Clarke was mad but she was also happy that Lexa wasn’t in pain anymore. It hurt that Lexa didn’t trust her with that bit of information. That she didn’t consider Clarke’s feelings but, as Clarke quickly realized, she had no one in her life anymore that she could trust. She’d pushed them all away.

Lexa’s friends that Clarke thought considered her a friend too, didn’t care about her, considered Lexa’s arm candy, nothing serious. Her family didn’t let her have any part of the funeral, didn’t even tell her when it was.

That was when Clarke decided to go back to Arkadia, she could withstand the hour commute every day, didn’t mind it in the first place, just hated the memories that came with Arkadia.

Clarke rented out her condo when she decided to move out of Arkadia and had to give the tenants that didn’t have a contract two months notice to be nice and tell them they had to leave. The first month she mourned Lexa and worked her ass off at the Gallery. She got out of her lease at the apartment she rented, it was easy, Roan wasn’t exactly a fan of Clarke’s, and by the time she had the U-haul packed and ready to go, Clarke was nervous about the move back, if her friends would take her back, if her memories she had would suddenly overwhelm her and break her down or just a calm, soothing homecoming.

Clarke moved her stuff back into the empty condo, the plain walls needed to be changed so she stacked everything in the middle of the living room so she could paint the walls over the next week. She constructed her bed frame and made her bed in the center of her bedroom, but she didn’t have anything to do on a Wednesday night. She couldn’t be left alone with her thoughts, she’d think about the two people that broke her heart in the same year.

Clarke knocked on the apartment that she knew to be Raven and Octavia’s, with tears streaming down her face because on the short walk over she did think about them, passing the doorway she and Bellamy made out in while wading out the downpour that surprised them on the walk back to his apartment one night. Clarke expected the disappointment and the hugs and ultimately the support they’d show her and would hold her until the tears subsided.

What she didn’t expect was the man that left her high and dry a year ago standing in the doorway wearing black sweatpants, that didn’t hide his semi-hard on, and grey moth-hole-ridden t-shirt that she swore she secretly threw out before he left her.

She looked up at him, into his dark eyes, that were just as surprised and confused as she was. The scar on his lip twitched a little before he tightened his jaw, the muscle jumping, making it clear as day.

“Bellamy,” Clarke asked, her voice broke as she tried to keep her breathing under control, as she tried as hard as possible to _not_ take those few steps and wrap her arms around his taught torso. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m replacing Wallace in September,” he whispered into her hair.

“Wallace?” Clarke shoved him away. She forgot how much she wanted to hit him, how much she wanted to hate him.

“He’s retiring, asked me to be his replacement.”

“And what about your girlfriend?”

“She’s—she’s not in the picture.”

“Mine died.”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one.”

“We’re messed up,” she said with finality.

“Totally fucked,” Bellamy agreed, letting Clarke into the apartment and they continued watching some documentary together on opposite sides of the couch. Clarke wished she’d remembered what it was about.

* * *

 

# YEAR SIX

Clarke couldn't let Lexa go, she wore her necklace for months, snapping at anyone who commented on its ugliness, but couldn’t talk about its owner. She just couldn't lose Lexa, feeling it was her fault somehow.

Her friendship with Bellamy wasn’t the same since they both returned but he still cared and she missed him. Winding up on his doorstep her first night back, fighting back tears and not knowing where else to go but also not realizing it was his doorstep.

Their friendship changed. They were both broken and healing causing them to become codependent, leaning on each other after putting up a brave front all day at work or with their friends. Clarke unofficially moved into his apartment with O and Lincoln, Bellamy giving her his bed when she didn’t fall asleep in his embrace on the couch.

After five or six months of crying on each other's shoulder nearly every night, their mourning subsided and their friends could tolerate being around them again. Octavia, Zoe, and Harper watched them warily, knowingly, patiently waiting for them to get together but they both had a bad year, they couldn't just forget everything that’d happened and move on.

“Clarke,” Octavia said softly.

Clarke stirred, “Mm.”

“Griffin, I will use his name for you in his voice that I do so well that you’ll wake up because you always do because you’re helplessly in love with him and won’t admit it.”

Clarke groaned at the sound of a deep, manly laugh at the statement before rolling over to see Octavia and Lincoln sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

“Where is he? He doesn’t—“

“We know, he’s still asleep. We have a favor to ask.”

“What the hell time is it?”

“Nine-thirty.”

“Shit!” Clarke sat bolt upright. “I have to—“

“Sunday, Clarke, you had the opening last night.”

Clarke slumped back against the sofa. “Awesome. What’s up?”

“We were thinking,” Lincoln said. “That since we’re engaged now, that we could—“

“Engaged? What when?”

Octavia snapped her fingers, one had a pretty sparkley diamond attached. “On task, Griffin.”

“Yes, sorry.”

“Could we take over the payments of your condo for you? You practically live here anyway, it’d be a lot easier than looking for our own space and—“

“You want me to live here. With—with Bellamy?”

“Oh, uh, separate rooms obviously. You’d get ours.”

“I would love to say yes, because I am so happy for you guys. You know I love you, but have you…did you ask Bellamy about this?”

“He asked the same thing. If we discussed it with you,” Lincoln clarified.

“I think if the two of you talked about it, you’d come to a decision together,” Octavia added. That’s not how Clarke and Bellamy are anymore. They don’t talk really. They cry, or brood in Bellamy’s case, and hold each other together watching something on Netflix until someone falls asleep. If they do talk it’s about the weather or an exhibit or a lesson plan. Not real things, not anymore.

“I—he…we,” Clarke sighed. “We don’t talk, O. It’s like we can’t. Like the last two years didn’t happen, but we don’t argue.”

“You two aren’t having sex again are you?”

“No, he’s not—I’m not—neither of us are ready after last year.”

“No, I’m—that’s good. The no sex part, not the part about not being over everything. Not that you should be but you—the two of you are not in a good place to have sex and if sex—mm, he’s my brother. I can’t,” Octavia shook her head and walked away, leaving Clarke with Lincoln.

“What I think O is trying to say is that if it is back on the table—when was it originally on the table?—talk to each other. Tell him where you were emotionally when he left, tell him how you felt. Make it real, let him know that he hurt you when he left. That he hurt you when he didn’t send you something.”

“I told him. I texted him every day until there was nothing in that box for me. He broke my heart and Lexa was a temporary fix until she did it all over again. I can’t let him do that to me again.”

“And if he felt the exact same way as you? That he can’t let you break his heart again? And he can’t be your hook up?”

“I—“ Clarke scoffed. “It’s what we were doing, I wanted it to be more but he didn’t show me or say that he wanted more. I’m not a mind reader, Lincoln.”

He nodded, “I know, but please talk to him about this. For Octavia.”

Clarke nodded, of course she’d do this for them, they’re the best relationship that Clarke knows.

“Thank you. Now, I’m going to try and get her mind off you ever having sex with her brother.”

Clarke chuckled.

* * *

Clarke picked up the phone. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that baby Blake is engaged to Chewbacca?” she immediately heard Raven ask.

“Uh, rude.”

“He calls me Kristen Stewart, he gets something equally as horrible.”

Clarke stifled a laugh. “How’s San Francisco?”

“I hate the fog.”

“We have fog here,” Clarke chuckled.

“That was like a soft mist compared to the fog of San Francisco. Speaking of Arkadia, how’s everything with Bellamy?”

“It’s… it’s him, you know, I can’t hate him no matter how hard I try. I saw him standing there in that doorway and my heart exploded and I was _so_ happy. But then the bubble burst a moment later when I realized he probably wasn’t staying and it _broke_. He has the capability to break me with just a look. How is someone supposed to be able to live like that?”

“Have you talked to him? Tell him how you feel?”

“No,” Clarke said, slightly offended, Raven was the one person Clarke opened up to about everything with Bellamy. “That’s why he left.”

“Because you told him how you felt?”

“Because he thought I slept with Wallace’s son.”

“Who?”

“Professor Wallace has a son, grotesque. I didn’t even know about him until graduation. How could I have slept with someone I’ve never met?”

Raven’s lack of response did nothing for Clarke’s nerves. She didn’t want there to be any weirdness between her and Bellamy but she always knew that that argument will be a defining moment in their relationship.

* * *

“I am sick of walking out of my bedroom every morning and seeing you and Clarke curled up on the couch together! I want my living room back, Bellamy!” Clarke heard Octavia through the crack in the front door. She was about to walk into the apartment but this probably isn’t something she’d want to interrupt.

“What do you want me to do about it, Octavia? She’s made it perfectly clear that all she wants from me is a friend. She still cries on my shoulder over Lexa, I don’t—we can’t be more than friends, we were a disaster.”

“She’s hopelessly in love with you, Bell. You’re an idiot if you don’t see that she wants you. It’s been you since that first night. You didn’t see her face when we opened the care package. She was heartbroken. You really hurt her, she’s here because being close to you hurts less than being away from you.”

“That’s what you think. And I did get her something, I just couldn’t send it. I couldn’t make it okay because she hurt me.”

“What did you..? Do you love her?” O pressed. Clarke shouldn’t be listening, she knew that but she was frozen against the wall. Yes, of course she wanted to know the answers to everything Octavia asked but it’s invading Bellamy’s privacy. She respects him too much but he couldn’t send her what he bought her two years ago? Did he even still have it? She decided quickly to just walk in the door before Bellamy could answer. He doesn’t answer and she doesn’t know, she doesn’t get hurt if she’s to be let down and heartbroken all over again.

The air around the two siblings was thick, too think for any sense of comfort, Bellamy was clearly on edge, not wanting to talk about it and Octavia looked annoyed. She really wanted to know Bellamy’s answer, though not as much as Clarke even though she’s the one that gave him an out. “Should I go?”

“No,” they practically said together. Octavia knew that Bellamy wouldn’t talk about it since the interruption but Clarke knew that in his eyes, he wanted to tell the world how he felt, no matter what it was. She was grateful for his candidness with his sister. He hadn’t let anyone in since she’d gotten back. And three months was a long time for Bellamy to not even confide in Miller.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just asked him how he felt about the move.”

“I hadn’t talked to him about it yet,” Clarke admitted, honestly hoping that Lincoln and Octavia would have found a better option because Clarke didn’t know if she could be roommates with Bellamy.

“I think it’s a horrible idea! They’re barely engaged, they shouldn’t be living alone together!” Bellamy said, loud and annoyed.

“They’re getting married, Bellamy, that’s what marriage is.”

“I know that, I just don’t think they should be moving so fast and I don’t like that you’re agreeing to it.”

“I didn’t agree to it, I told them I’d talk to you about it. You’ve been having a bad week so I was waiting to bring it up.”

“So I wouldn’t be mad at you?”

“You know what, Bellamy. I’ve been tiptoeing around your feelings. About how _I_ hurt _you_. I’m not the one who left, I’m not the one who missed his sister’s college graduation because seeing me would hurt you. When you’re ready to grow up, I’ll be in O’s room because they’re taking over the condo,” Clarke yelled. She’s mad, he’s hiding something and he’s being unfair. They both made mistakes, Clarke won’t deny that but to say that she didn’t try to get past them and let it go and forgive him would be a lie. But Bellamy? Bellamy was still holding on to that fight, still held it against her.

They were hooking up, that’s what they were doing two years ago. What was Clarke supposed to do that morning? Confess her love and devotion to him while he’s waking her up at an ungodly hour about sleeping with someone she didn’t even know existed? Essentially ruining their dynamic. He was her best friend. Best friends that hook up tend to turn into more than friends and he’d be an idiot not to realize how stereotypical they were. Or rather she was.

* * *

Much to Clarke’s surprise, Bellamy helped her pack up the condo while Octavia and Lincoln packed up their things from the apartment. He liked Clarke’s dishes better, texting Octavia that she should take theirs and whatever else was in the kitchen but didn’t tell her that it was because Clarke’s were nicer. Nor did he tell Clarke that he liked her copper kitchenware.

They packed Bellamy’s truck up with boxes, not her bed or anything that needed the U-haul she rented for them for the day, letting Octavia and Lincoln use it first. Her stuff all shoved in the corner of the living room making the condo bigger than it was. They hadn't talked about furniture, he realized and kind of hoped she'd bring hers. His worn out, patchwork leather couch that was probably fifteen years old with cat feces was not his favorite piece of furniture when compared to Clarke’s year old, black leather living room set.

“What are you doing with the living room furniture?”

“Early wedding present,” Clarke shrugged like it was no big deal.

“What about us?”

“Us?”

 _Shit, did he just…_ “We need a new couch,” Bellamy stated like it was obvious.

“I’ll buy one,” she said hoarsely. Did she want to keep it? Did she want to remember all the tears she’s cried on it, all the times she’s fallen asleep curled into his side, the pain and memories of her lost love tiring her out? All the times they had messy, sloppy sex on it, rolling off onto the rug.

“You don’t have to, they coerced you into this. I’ll get a new couch.”

“Bell—“ she said warningly.

He grimaced, she never called him that, it was always “Bellamy”. The way his name rolled off her tongue always made his cock twitch, especially now that he knows what it sounds like at her climax. “No, Clarke, it’s—you shouldn’t have to do everything. You—“

“You don’t have to say no all the time. Just take it, you and Octavia hate that couch. It’s old and it smells and regardless my trust fund likes being spent.”

“I didn’t mean—they should buy their own furniture. You practically gave them this condo, it’s the least they could do.”

“Are you saying that you want my couch?”

“Black leather is my favorite.”

Clarke scoffed, “That’s all you had to say. I’m not going to fight you on something like a couch. They can take the one at your apartment for now.”

“Our apartment.”

“Still sounds weird.”

“Yeah,” he grimaced looking at the road, turning onto his—their street.

“They’re still packing up?” she grimaced at the U-haul still parked in front of the building.

“They’re two people and you’re one and you hadn’t unpacked much since you moved back, staying here most nights.”

“You could have always kicked me out, now you’re stuck with me.”

“Yep, sucks to be me,” Bellamy deadpanned and ignored Clarke’s expression.

“Hey!” Lincoln said coming out of the complex with two boxes stacked on top of each other. “We have the kitchen mostly packed, minus your mugs and that ceramic bowl that Clarke painted, figured you'd want it here.” He placed the boxes in the back of the nearly full U-haul. “You guys should come up and see if you want anything.”

“If you help bring things up while we look,” Bellamy countered, he’s okay with this, the engagement and moving in together, he’s happy for them, he is. It’s Clarke that he’s worried about. How are they going to act together? Domestic? Like friends? Or the same as they’re acting now, they’re not friends, or maybe they are, they’re something. Not friends, not more, but something more than acquaintances or roommates.

They picked somethings out, things that neither Lincoln or Octavia had any attachments to and they all helped each other move in and over the course of the next month, Clarke and Bellamy had a rhythm down.

Clarke had a weird schedule, she pretty much worked the week of an opening, usually between noon and eight, depending on the artist because they, like she, works late into the night and her boss was accommodating. Though she was always painting, she never allowed him to see her work until it was finished and in the gallery for a show. She doesn’t tell him that he’s her muse again, doesn’t tell him that people liked him more than Lexa, she didn’t want to ruin what they had.

With a year of teaching under his belt, Bellamy was being looked at closer for tenure, the school has to make sure Wallace chose a good replacement. He wasn't eligible for two more years but they liked him a lot and hoped the students felt the same so when the time came Bellamy could be tenured.

One night, a year after Clarke unofficially moved in, and it was almost Bellamy’s birthday, he stormed into the apartment with the biggest smile on his face. Clarke was cooking pancakes, she only knew how to make comfort food and though Bellamy loves her chocolate chip and banana pancakes, he wanted steak and he wanted her and he wanted to finally declare it. He told Miller and Murphy and Octavia to screw off because he was tired of the stupid civility between him and Clarke and just wanted _his_ Clarke back.

“Put that down, we’re going out!” he exclaimed, lifting Clarke in the air with a little twirl.

“Bellamy, what..?” she laughed, trying to keep the greasy spatula away from his nice shirt.

“Get dressed, we’re going out to dinner. I want steak!”

“Who are you and what have you done with Bellamy?” Clarke deadpanned, worried. He’s never impulsive or frivolous about money.

“I–no, it’s an announcement that should be done over wine, we’re doing it if only you’d go get dressed.”

“This is good news? We need good news! What is it?”

“Dinner, come on!” he argued right back but agreed that they’re both overdue for good news.

“Bell, really? My hair is a mess and I’m in sweats and the pancakes are almost done. If you’d warned me, I wouldn’t have changed but—“

“Your hair looks fine, you can throw on that little black dress you love with a pair of heels and we can save the pancakes for the morning. We’re both in a rut and we need to get out of it. Get out of this apartment.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “You even picked my outfit out for me,” she scowled, heading to her room, hopefully to get changed, leaving Bellamy with the pancake mess to clean up.

Five minutes later, the kitchen was clean, Bellamy was finishing the last dish in the sink when he heard Clarke's door open reminding him to grease it up to silence it.

He placed the last dish in the drying rack and shut the water off before turning around and saw Clarke standing in the hallway in matching black lace bra and panties, the dress in her hand. Bellamy forgot how to breathe until she spoke.

“There’s a stain, thought you’d want pick its replacement,” she said holding out the dress.

“Um,” Bellamy swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”

He moved his feet somehow walking towards her in the middle of the hall.

He let out a shaky breath as he reached out for her waist, his hand gripping onto her waist. “Clarke,” he said, trying to keep his eyes up on her face as she licked her lips.

“Are you going to pick out my dress,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “Or are you going to take these off?”

Bellamy pinched his eyes closed and groaned, she’s a bloody tease and he hated it. He had an amazing day and she’s messing with their agreement. “What happened to just friends?”

“We sleep together every night, I don’t think ‘just friends’ will _ever_ explain us. So, dress or undress?” she asked.

Bellamy sighed, knowing his instincts and fighting them tooth and nail, before he squared his shoulders and looked at her sincerely. “Dress, because I don’t want this to be like last time,” he smirked.

“I had fun last time,” she said remembering their agreement from years ago.

“We did have fun and we will again but I have good news and I want an expensive glass of wine and a rib-eye to celebrate. So yes, you’re going to put a dress on and you’re going to be happy as you eat your vegan whatever.”

Clarke grimaced, she knows he likes some of the things she orders when they’re out with friends, he just likes to sass her about her life choices. She moved aside, letting Bellamy past so he could pick out her dress, he’s surprisingly good at it.

* * *

 

They didn't tell anyone they were together, letting the honeymoon phase work itself out of their systems as they screwed like rabbits one to four times a day and wherever they wanted because it was their apartment and they didn't have to share or worry about anyone coming in unannounced.

A month later was Octavia’s wedding to Lincoln and Clarke was the maid of honor and Bellamy walked Octavia down the aisle, his eyes glued to Clarke in her blue dress. Raven leaned over and told Clarke she “had to hit that sooner than later.” Which Clarke just chuckled at because little did Raven know, just two hours prior she did.

Clarke and Bellamy couldn't keep their hands off each other the whole night, with only a few glances their way, waiting for their friends to come to them before they told everyone. The first was Murphy who asked if they were going to, which Bellamy promptly responded coining one of his all-time favorite phrases, “shut up, Murphy.” The rest followed suit and they soon couldn’t hide their happiness and though, making Octavia’s wedding better, also took some of the focus off the officially solidified couple and onto the “new” couple of the Delinquents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as always comments and kudos are welcome and encouraged and if you have an idea of a fic that you would like me to fulfill just ask on [ my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thebellarkeofitall) where I geek out over all things The 100 and HTGAWM and Harry Potter.


	4. Years 7 & 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not playing this game... I can't give away the ending. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm one of those perfectionists that I always disliked growing up, not seeing their point in having everything just right. I see where they're coming from now... I exhaust myself. I'm also insanely obsessed with Good Girls Revolt, it's inspiring. "I'm 25 today and I'm going to take myself more seriously." Meaning I have 18 more months of debauchery before I have to buckle down. JK, it's not going to happen.
> 
> So sorry for the delay on this but being a perfectionist means that everything is time consuming and tiring! And I did a lot of research on Filipino cuisine. Restaurant and all. 
> 
> Happy New Year everyone!

# YEAR SEVEN

“So I don’t know how you feel about me bringing up my idiocy with New York, but I have to tell you something,” Bellamy said after a long, tiring night of debauchery the week before his professorial debut.

“Oh, I love being reminded that you’re an idiot,” Clarke smirked, kissing his neck.

“I bet,” he said in a happy tone, Clarke’s new favorite version of Bellamy. “I did get you something, I just couldn’t put it in the box. I couldn’t tell everyone how I felt about you, I couldn’t tell you after you pushed me away. Yeah, I now know you weren’t but that’s how it felt in the moment.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t, we’re here,” he smiled momentarily. “Do you want it?”

“No,” Clarke smiled against his collarbone. “That means you have to get up and I’m incredibly happy right now.”

They decided to sleep in Bellamy’s room, ever since their first date when they went for round three as they stumbled through the apartment to a bedroom and it just became a habit. Clarke’s clothes were still in her room. Actually, they were scattered all over the apartment. Bellamy has grown accustomed to picking up her clothes from various places of the apartment, somehow she missed the kitchen entirely, which he was thankful for partly because finding underwear in the kitchen would raise questions if he weren’t the one who stripped them down her thighs as she jumped onto the counter for the best angle they could find in the entire apartment aside from his mattress.

Bellamy stroked Clarke’s lower back, soothing her, “Later?”

“Mm,” she sighed happily, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Do you want to know what it is?”

“I waited two years for it, I think I can wait another eight hours.”

“What if it came with a ring?”

Clarke sat up and looked down at him with shock and anticipation and nervousness. “Bellamy—“

“Am I allowed to get up?” he smiled.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I should have done two years ago instead of runaway to New York, can I do it?”

Clarke nodded hurriedly as she untangled her limbs from Bellamy so he could get up. Watching him walk bare across the room to his closet turned her on. All the taught muscles in his shoulders and ass made Bellamy look like one of the Greek gods he obsesses over and God, she just loved when he talked during sex. She knew his mouth had no filter, not hiding any of the dirty thoughts he’d had of her when they were just fucking years ago but now it’s whatever drifted into his mind, she didn’t mind because she still heard “Fuck, baby, just like that!” whenever she was on top with beautiful little acknowledgements and praise through his ramblings about his lectures or the new documentary coming on the history channel or a new exhibit in DC. Clarke didn’t pay attention to the words, just his voice as it coursed through her body, the rough, gravelly tone hitting her in all the right places where his hands, mouth and dick couldn’t penetrate.

He grabbed something from the shelf in the closet and turned back around to find her watching him. “See something you like?”

Clarke nodded, “A lot.”

“Want to make it permanent?”

“You have to actually say the words, otherwise I’m just assuming and I don’t know what you’re asking.”

Bellamy walked over to the bed and knelt on the floor. “Princess—Clarke, will you marry me?” he opened the box and a diamond ring sat in the middle of a ring with two sapphires on either side and Clarke wanted to cry, tears of joy.

“Yes, of course!”

Bellamy put the ring on Clarke’s finger as she bent down and kissed him before pulling away and looking at him skeptically. “You bought me a ring in New York?”

“I bought you a sapphire pendant. You still want that?”

Clarke grimaced, “You bought me a necklace when you were seeing someone else?”

“I wasn’t seeing her then, but yes, I thought about you all the time and I felt terrible about it with Gina around. I compared her to you.”

“That wasn’t really fair to her, was it?”

“No. Clarke, it was always you. You aren’t changing your mind, are you?”

“Hell no, you can't get rid of me that easy,” Clarke chuckled, dragging Bellamy back over her, craving more.

“You’re bloody insatiable,” Bellamy chuckled, kissing down her throat.

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

* * *

“What do you mean he doesn't know we're picking out wedding dresses?” Octavia asked loudly outside the dressing room. She's the maid of honor, she has to be. Raven was zipping up the dress that Clarke was trying on while simultaneously attempting to hold back a laugh. They’ve been there for over an hour and Clarke felt like she’s tried on every dress in the store, about to cave and buy a cream-colored maxi dress online.

“If I told him, he'd be here and he'd veto everything and have me design something that will take months to put together. So instead of dealing with _that_ Bellamy, because he's way too much, I'm going to deal with the disappointed Bellamy that I can make happy with sex,” Clarke answered, feeling Octavia’s silent gag through the curtain.

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” Raven agreed.

“He's going to kill us,” Octavia stated.

“Just you,” Clarke said then added, “And possibly Raven. He loves me too much.”

“She was his life for eighteen years, she wins. And I think this is the one,” Raven smirked, peaking over Clarke’s shoulder to look in the mirror with Clarke.

She was near tears seeing herself in the ivory dress that she knew would make Bellamy cry as she realized that she had no one to walk her down the aisle. Her dad and Wells, then again Jake gave Clarke away to Wells when they were six. It was a wedding straight out of Pretty Woman, what they could do on a ten dollar allowance budget, but still Jake gave her away then, you’d think it would count but Clarke wanted her father to know Bellamy like she does, approve of him. Not that they need her parents approval, lord knows Abby doesn’t approve, but Clarke knew that Jake would if Bellamy made her happy. Bellamy makes her happy.

“Why do I hear crying?” Octavia asked storming into the dressing room. “Oh, my God, you’re stunning! He’s going to be speechless. But what’s with the tears?”

“I have no one to walk me down the aisle. It was my dad then Wells and then Bellamy, but Bell can’t give me away to himself. It makes no sense and he’s my only option so—“

“I’ll do it,” Raven offered.

“You’re a bridesmaid!” Clarke cried feeling utterly ridiculous over the matter but she wanted someone for the job.

“I can do both! I can walk you down the aisle and then stand on the side next to O and it’ll all be fine.”

“It won’t because I…I don’t want—Octavia had Bellamy to walk her down the aisle, he’s not her dad but he’s the closest thing she had.”

“He was more of a father to me than a brother and it was infuriating but also endearing. I’d recommend Lincoln, but you two aren’t exactly close and I know what it means to you. I know, Clarke and I’m so sorry that you don’t have that, but you don’t need it. You’re Clarke Griffin, you challenge the rules while staying in your lane. You don’t need a man to give you away because you’ve been calling your own shots since I’ve known you. Give yourself away even though it’s an old archaic tradition, we’re women of the twenty-first century, we don’t need a man to come in and do something for us that we can do ourselves.”

“Damn, O!” Raven practically applauded.

“One hell of a speech,” Clarke agreed, the tears subsiding somewhat.

“Good, now, are you going to change or wait until your mascara runs down your face and ruins the dress?”

“You ruined a beautiful heartwarming moment,” Raven said, shaking your head. “I can’t believe that I came all the way out here from San Francisco to hear this abuse. Clarke, you deserve better than that for your maid of honor.”

“You guys both suck, unzip me. I have a cake tasting with my fiancé in twenty minutes.”

“Oh, just remember that I am bringing a plus one,” Raven smiled, pulling the zipper down Clarke’s back.

“We can’t when he brings that smile to your face!” Clarke smiled at her friend.

* * *

“So, the wedding was a bust,” Roan grimaced looking down at Clarke while they were dancing on the floor together, Raven and Bellamy a few feet away.

“You’re an ass,” Clarke smirked. “Could you do me a huge favor?”

“Anything for a friend of Raven’s.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, back when Clarke was younger and traveled the country with the Jaha’s Clarke met Roan and Ontari, the children of Nia, they went to the same political  functions and once they were old enough Clarke and Wells stayed in DC while Thelonious traveled alone. Clarke hadn’t seen Roan since she was fifteen and he was twenty. Of course the world would be so small and bring him back into her life as Raven’s “seriously, we’re not serious” plus one. “Don’t hurt her, I don’t want a reason to go to San Francisco aside from a calm vacation with my friend.”

“You do know she’s moving back here, right? Dress shopping last month was convenient since she had to find us an apartment too.”

“You’re moving out of California? How shocked are Nia and Ontari?

“Mom died, she—Cancer.”

“I’m sorry, Roan. I didn’t know.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry about your father and Wells, I read about them in the paper.”

Clarke scoffed, “I hate that mourning them was a national skeptical. I lost my dad and my best friend in the same month, I felt like my heart ripped out of my chest. I can’t really complain, Thelonious had it worse, his wife and his son.”

“He’s happy, you know, living peacefully on Nantucket. He has a bar or something, I don’t—that’s the rumor.”

“Retirement does wonders to some people.”

“May I cut in?” Bellamy asked.

“The lady doesn’t want you,” Roan smirked.

“Well, she’s three hours too late on that decision. She’s stuck with me forever, the government just banned divorce,” Bellamy quipped back just as quick.

“So our plot to kill him, the timeline's moved up,” Roan whisper-yelled to Clarke as Raven pulled him away from them.

“I’m glad you two get along,” Clarke smiled, swaying in Bellamy’s arms.

“He’s something. Didn’t like him at the beginning of the day when he stormed into my suite demanding I apologize for sleeping with Raven.”

“Eight years ago?”

“Mm,” Bellamy grumbled. “I haven’t thought about it since I met you. Before that, even.”

“You don’t have to tell me, I don’t even remember what sex was like before you.”

“Oh, lying with flattery, we’re too much!”

“Worse, we’re that annoying couple that everyone hates but keeps around because we throw epic ragers that challenge the likes of your students.”

“You hit the nail on the head with that one, my dear.”

“Oh, why thank you darling,” Clarke faked a posh British accent as they both burst into a fit of laughter. “You couldn't do any better than me,” she smiled at him, mocking his vows.

“Shut up!” he laughed. “You didn't do any better. ‘You're a pain in my ass, but a pain in the ass I’ll love forever more.’ That's a horrible euphemism to share with our friends and family. They don't need that imagery.”

“Shut up, it fits you perfectly.”

“Telling your _mom_ about the biggest and best pain in your ass, inappropriate but highly entertaining.”

“God, you ruin everything, even our wedding, you suck! Why did I marry you?”

“Because we were both miserable without each other.”

“That’s a horrible reason!”

“You love me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Clarke smiled and kissed Bellamy. “You’re still a pain in the ass.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

* * *

Clarke and Bellamy’s honeymoon was in Belize, courtesy of Abigail Griffin and Marcus Kane. a wedding gift of sorts. Clarke didn’t want to take it, return it and use the money for a nice down payment on a house. Twenty seven thousand dollar for a week in a bungalow was utterly ridiculous to Clarke. Twenty seven thousand dollars without the plane tickets, two thousand dollar plane tickets. Clarke rolled her eyes, she hates the extravagance. She’d be happy to go to Bath and watch Bellamy geek out over the Roman influence on the city. Roughly five thousand dollars. That’s eighty percent cheaper and it’ll make them both happy. Granted they’ll be in England in the middle of winter, but they would have enjoyed it. Not that they didn’t enjoy Maldives, but they would have explored more instead of staying in bed and ordering room service. They had a lot of fun doing that so it was well worth it.

When they got back, Miller and Monty declared their plans to get married on Valentine’s day, being as cliché as they can. Bellamy and Jasper were their best men. It was a small wedding, something Clarke would have preferred but the moment Abigail Griffin heard that her only child was getting married it became a guest list of who’s who in the medical and political worlds. It became an event, not a wedding. Clarke ignored that aspect and focused on Bellamy and their friends. It was her wedding day, not a party for her mother’s acquaintances.

Octavia announced that she was pregnant on Bellamy’s birthday two months later in April and everyone was insanely happy for her and Lincoln, surprised it hadn’t happened earlier. Clarke cried that night, wondering how she wasn’t pregnant, not necessarily wanting to because she hadn’t talked to Bellamy about it, just remembered that she hadn’t been on birth control since she’d gotten back from her weekend in New York two years ago.

“Clarke, I know how you get when it’s… it’s 2016 I can’t blame your mood on your period, but it’s usually not now so what’s going on? Are you pregnant?”

“That’s your assumption? That’s immediately what you go to. It’s funny how that’s the exact problem. I’m not. I haven’t been on birth control since New York and we haven’t used a condom since we got together. So, Bellamy, tell me how I’m not pregnant.”

Bellamy sighed, sitting in front of her on the bathroom floor, pushing her dripping wet hair out of her face, cupping her chin to make her look him un the eyes. “I don’t know. Do—do you want to be?”

“I just—it’s been a year since we’ve gotten together and—I mean—I haven’t thought about it but now I think something is wrong with me.”

“Hey, no, if something is wrong, it could be either of us. We can go to a fertility doctor. I’ll cancel this morning’s classes and I’ll make an appointment.”

“No, Bell, it’s—go to work. I have the morning off, Francisco is going to be at the studio at four, I have the morning to do it. I don’t know why I just realized it though, it’s been a year.”

Bellamy held Clarke’s hand, “Octavia last night. It’s okay, I understand.”

“We have sex almost every day! It’s not okay, Bellamy!”

“We will figure it out, I promise.”

Clarke nodded, her tears subsiding. “Will you still love me if I’m damaged?”

“I married you because I love you, not because our children would be the sexiest children in the world.”

Clarke laughed. “You mean that in the least pedophiliac way possible.”

“Of course! Do you really think actors’ parents enjoy seeing their children in sex scenes? Most definitely not, that doesn’t mean that they’re unaware of their beauty.” He paused and Clarke knew he was going to ask if she was okay. “Will you be okay?”

Clarke nodded. “I’m sorry for freaking out, I just don’t know how I’m not, you know.”

“The reproductive system is complex. Make an appointment and we will find out the problem. You or me and then we have options.”

“We didn’t even discuss having kids. Or trying, I jumped the gun.”

“I think we will be great parents, slightly troubled kids but insanely smart and creative, like their mother.”

“And brilliant and handsome like their father.”

“So that’s why you married me, for my looks!”

“Get to work or you’re going to be late.”

“The place hasn’t changed, if the professor isn’t there after fifteen minutes they all leave.”

“I’ll call my mother for the best fertility doctor if you go to work so you can teach the adult children something.”

Bellamy chuckled leaning in for a kiss. “We’re fine, Clarke. It’ll all be okay. I love you.”

“I love you too. Have a good day.”

“Text me the details, I’ll check between classes.”

“You always do,” Clarke smirked as Bellamy stood and helped her up.

* * *

**Princess (April 27 10:51 am):** Don’t forget the app tomorrow. 5:30.

 **Bellamy (10:53 am):** I could never. Late night?

 **Princess (10:54 am):** Francisco’s showing is in three days, he’s freaking out as per usual.

 **Bellamy (10: 56 am):** He’s crazy… I love you. I’ll leave you some pancit palabok.

 **Princess (10:59 am):** YUM! I’m jealous! At least invite Monty and Miller over, we haven’t seen them since their wedding!

 **Bellamy (11:00 am):** After class. I’ll call you later.

* * *

"So it’s neither of you?” Raven asked in the kitchen at Octavia’s house Memorial day.

“Isn’t that weird?” Octavia chimed in, washing the dishes as Clarke dried them.

“Very. I mean, Bell’s count is normal and I’m… it doesn’t matter, it’s been a year and nothing. She said we shouldn’t think too much about it because we’re both ‘normal’. I just think that it’s weird that we’ve been having unprotected sex for over a year and nothing. I asked my mom to double check. I can’t believe I had to do that, it was awkward and embarrassing and she says it’s too soon to be thinking about children. We haven’t even really talked about kids. We did when we decided to go to a doctor when we found out about Ollie,” Clarke smiled looking to Octavia’s recently growing stomach, four months along. “But that was it.”

“Well, maybe that’s why. Your body knows you guys aren’t ready because you haven’t talked about it. Do you guys have a five year plan?” Raven asked and both Octavia and Clarke turned to look at her crunching on the celery from her bloody Mary.

“Five year plan?”

“Yeah, Roan and I have—shit. We’re engaged. Kind of. We talked about it and it's in our plan.”

“You scheduled your engagement in a five year plan?” Octavia grimaced, shutting the water off to focus on the new information.

“That's weird, right? We're weird. I knew that people don't typically do that. I just… I think I came up with it to try and figure out where he was with our relationship and fucked it up. You can't really blame me after Finn and Wick.”

“I think it's admirable. I think Bellamy is focused on getting tenure now that the wedding is over,” Clarke sighed.

“He has to be teaching for three years. He has two more to worry about. You're going to wait to have kids for two more years?”

“That could be his plan. I don't know, I just know that we're both fine and I should be pregnant by now.”

“You've barely been married six months. What's the rush?”

“Is this where you argue that we’ve barely been together a year? It's been four. Sure, one shouldn't count but we didn't stop caring about each other. We were being idiots. That shouldn't matter. I've known him just as long as I've known you, you're saying I don't know him as well as I know you? Our arguments served us in more than one way, you know. We know a lot more about each other than I do either of you.”

“So the first two years of you two knowing each other was what? Foreplay?” O asked sharply.

“Kind of.”

“Wait, seriously? We locked you in a hotel room with two years of foreplay and nothing happened.”

“Oh, something happened,” Clarke smiled widely, reminiscing her first time with Bellamy.

“Hey, we’ve been waiting for—“ Bellamy said walking in and stopped short at the horrified expressions on their friends faces. “What did I just walk into?”

“They just found out that we had sex in Puerto Rico. I forgot that they didn’t know.”

“It was a bachelorette party question!” Raven exclaimed. “You said it was when you needed help writing your history paper six months after spring break.”

“You did?” Bell grimaced, crossing his arms.

“I…didn’t forget, I just—you really wanted me to tell them that you _begged_ me to have sex with you? That it was me or your hand in the bathroom where I’d continue to question what you were touching and playing with while jerking off. I thought I was saving them from that version.”

Raven choked, “Bellamy begged?”

“It was a win-win, I got her to shut up and I got off. It was pristine, until I tried with other girls and it just was not the same. I kept thinking about her and at first I thought she broke me. Then I just rolled with it, knowing she’d never want me so I thought of things about Clarke that I could remember from that night and October came and she knocked on my door and I was just glad that she wanted to go again. God, I’m getting mushy.”

“You know I love you, right?” Clarke sighed, staring at her husband, blushing.

“I’d hope so or I just made an utter fool of myself,” he breathed.

“No doubt.”

* * *

# YEAR EIGHT

Bellamy stopped the car in front of a house with an Open House sign out front.

“Bell, what are you doing? We’re supposed to be at Raven’s, we’re going to be late,” Clarke stated, knowing how Raven hates when they’re late, blames it on Clarke’s hormone injections, though she doesn’t know that Bellamy and Clarke are trying to have kids, not knowing how they’d afford it after Clarke refused her trust fund now that she’s twenty-five.

“Just come on, we’re early, but I thought it’d be more fun without other people around,” he smiled, turning the car off and stepping out of the car.

Clarke rolled her eyes and followed him out of the car and up the driveway, she doesn’t even know where he’s taken her, she was so caught up thinking about their first date.

“How are you getting in? The realtor… did Lincoln do the construction?” she asked but he kept quiet as he twisted the doorknob.

Bellamy stepped into the house and froze as he looked around, Clarke watched all the thoughts and ideas rushing through his head, bemusing her.

Suddenly, Bellamy reanimated and was rambling as he pushed through the first floor of the house, dragging Clarke behind. “Baby Bell is going to break his arm falling down those stairs… Baby Clarke will take her first steps here… I’m going to make sweet, sweet love to you here an infinite amount of times, I see it now… we’re going to host Thanksgiving and Easter here, saving Christmas for your Mom and Kane, Independence Day for O and Lincoln… Baby Bell will learn football in this backyard and Baby Clarke will—“

“Baby Bell and Baby Clarke?” Clarke sighed, leaning against the kitchen island as Bellamy looked out the back window over the sink into the spacious back yard.

“Obviously he won’t have the name of a cheese or be named after us, that’d be weird but—“

“What are you saying, Bellamy?”

“I bought the house.”

“What?” she exclaimed, in utter shock. “We can’t afford this, Bellamy, you haven’t made tenure and—“

“I’m a board member,” he corrected.

Clarke gasped, “Bell! That’s awesome! What—we can afford a house?”

“With a mortgage, twenty years, less once your school loans are paid off.”

Clarke’s eyes pooled with tears and she buried her face in her hands, how could he do this without telling her? God, she loved him so much and knowing he’s this serious about building a life with her was probably the best thing to ever happen to her.

“Jacob,” she said definitively. “If it’s a boy, maybe the middle name, but it’s in there.”

“Lindsey Aurora, definitely not Baby Clarke,” he smirked at her, pulling her in close.

“Husband,” she said in the crook of his neck.

“Yes, wife?”

“Why the hell did it take us so long to figure this out?”

Bellamy chuckled, “I don’t know about you but after about twenty minutes of knowing you, I would’ve hopped a flight to Vegas if you’d asked me to.”

“Liar,” Clarke chuckled, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’d say, let’s christen the house right now, but this one isn’t ours, it’s the model for the development. We’re fourth on the list, behind Miller and Monty. All of our friends are going to be our neighbors, I hope you don’t mind.”

“We’re going to have bitchin’ block parties,” Clarke smirked, leaning her forehead against Bellamy’s chest, she loved it when he wore tan, the color suited him and his bloody hypnotizing freckles that she will eventually spend a whole day counting them all, she swears.

* * *

“So, you finally proposed,” Clarke smirked at Roan at the Labor Day party. She hated how life had gotten in the way of her friendships with the gang but was grateful for the awesome parties they have on every holiday.

“Yeah, Raven had it planned, you know, it was supposed to be between Thanksgiving and Christmas or something, I don’t know. I do know that I couldn’t wait that long. The ring was burning a hole in my pocket since Valentine’s day.”

“I can’t believe you waited so long.”

“Says the girl who took over three years to figure out how she felt.”

“Okay, you got some twisted version of our love affair. That is not how it happened.”

Roan smirked. “I got the seven year story that involved your first encounter with her. Rough, though not as bad as how she and I met, I thought I was going to kill her.”

“I bet. Hey, has Ontari decided on a school yet?”

“I’ve been pushing for Ark U, telling her that the history department has an awesome professor that she would love, but you know how stubborn she can be.”

“We all know how stubborn Clarke can be, I blame the silver spoon she was born with,” Bellamy said popping into the conversation, wrapping his arms around Clarke’s waist where she promptly retaliated with an elbow to his ribs. “Ow!”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Yes, Queen.”

“Woah, what happened to ‘princess’? I was just getting used to that.”

“You’re my wife, you’re my queen. We have a daughter, she’s my princess. Screw that prince kid though, he doesn’t get the cutesy nickname.”

“How drunk did Monty get you?”

Bellamy chucked into Clarke’s shoulder.

“Great, Jasper was over there too. Just wonderful. Drunk and high, I guess I’m driving home tonight,” Clarke said to the bemused Roan.

“You guys are really cute.”

“Thanks, I’m still in awe of the fact that you’re engaged!”

Marriage? We did that!” Bellamy whisper-yelled in Clarke’s ear.

“I think Bell is done for the night. Could you take him to the spare room while I go wring Jasper’s neck?”

“Of course,” Roan obliged, untangling Bellamy from Clarke and lead him down the hall.

Clarke stormed out of the house and over to Jasper and Monty. “Boys,” she smiled.

“Clarke!” they cooed in their own states of insobriety.

“You two are in trouble. _Bellamy_ is drunk and high.”

“Like the song!” Monty laughed.

“ _Got me feeling drunk and high, So high, so high, Oh-I-Oh-I-Oh, Now I’m feeling drunk and high, So high, so high,”_ Jasper sang very off key.

“We all know Coldplay,” Clarke deadpanned, holding back her urge to laugh.

"Beyoncé!" Monty exclaimed, offended.

“How’s it going over here?” Harper asked and Clarke squealed, she hasn’t seen her since graduation, pulling her into a hug. “Hey, Clarke.”

“I’m sorry, it’s been three years! I’ve missed you!”

“Chicago is weird and windy, don’t ever go.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Sterling is getting married Thursday and Zoe and I are going back Friday.”

“We should meet for lunch or something.”

“I would love that! I’m sorry I couldn’t go to your wedding, but from the pictures it looked like one of your mom’s events.”

“That’s what I get for letting her know,” Clarke laughed. “I have to get him home, these two jokers got him drunk and high and he’s turned into a blubbering idiot. He’s adorable but not the asshole I love and married.”

Harper laughed, “I can’t believe them, it’s like they haven’t changed.”

“Man babies. And somehow they’re married.”

“Zoe doesn’t want to. She wants to stay together, she loves me, but she doesn’t want to get married.”

“And you want to?”

“My dad has always had a vision of walking me down the aisle and I want to give that to him, but I don’t want to force Zoe to do something she doesn’t want to.”

“What about a commitment ceremony? It’s not a wedding, no papers to sign for the state or anything but something for your families and friends to know that ‘hey, I found someone I love and I could never give them up.’ It’s initially the same thing as a wedding but without the legality.”

“Maybe, I’m not going to push her right now. She’s going to think it’s because of Sterling and I don’t want that to be a bad day. She’s moody.”

“Mm, I remember. You guys are good together, happy.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I think it’s more comfort than anything.”

Clarke spotted Zoe watching them from across the pool and smirked at the adoring look in her eyes. “No, she loves you, the way that she’s looking at you right now, tells me that she’s really into you.”

Harper turned and looked at Zoe with a smile. “Go take care of your husband, I’ll text you tomorrow for lunch plans.”

“Sounds good. I’m so glad you’re here. Have a good night.”

Clarke hugged her old dorm mate goodbye and glared at the two boys that intoxicated her husband, they knew what the look meant and feared it.

* * *

Bellamy and Clarke were packing up the apartment to move into the house Bellamy bought them when she found a picture of the night they officially met. Murphy and Jasper were playing some game on the Xbox, the rest of the boys and Zoe focusing on the TV. Clarke, Octavia, and Raven were talking about something and Harper was in the corner, taking the picture with everyone. But the one thing that stood out was Bellamy and how his eyes were on Clarke. He looked puzzled and entranced, something Clarke had never seen him look before, except at climax.

“Babe!” she called from the spare bedroom where her stuff still was.

“Hmm?” he asked walking in to find her sitting on her bed.

“Come explain this to me.”

Bellamy sat next to her and looked at the picture. “A picture of us at Halloween six years ago?”

“Yeah, but look at you.”

“Okay? Clarke, I’m not understanding.”

“Who are you looking at?”

“Uh, you.”

“Why were you looking at me like that?”

“When was this picture taken? I don’t remember this picture.”

“Bellamy—“

“I never thought I’d see you again, my brightest student. I thought you’d get the class over with and you’d go be a doctor because that’s what you talked to Collins about all the time that semester. I was hoping I would see you again and then there you were and I thought that maybe I was dreaming. I wasn’t hung up on you then. And then you infuriated me to the point where I was either going to kill you or fuck you. I chose to fuck you in Puerto Rico and you made that choice rougher than it had to be. Then I wanted more but I couldn’t just ask you, I mean we still hated each other or so I thought and—“

“I should have just asked you to hop a flight to Vegas,” Clarke smirked.

“That was mean, but it would have worked.”

“Why the hell didn’t we ask anyone to help us move?”

“Because we thought we should be nice and give them a week off for doing it. They’ve been moving too.”

“I’m kind of regretting moving to the same cul-de-sac as all our friends, we won’t have privacy.”

“It’s not like they’ll be over every night. We have our lives and jobs to live. We’ll have parties, they’ll have parties, it’s normal. Hell, we’ll be over at Lincoln and O’s to see our nephew in a month.”

“True,” Bellamy kissed Clarke’s forehead and stood up. “Get back to work, it’s almost dark.”

“Pushy.”

* * *

Octavia gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Oliver. He looked just like Lincoln, it was incredible. He was incredibly cute and well behaved, rarely cried. Clarke and Bellamy spent as much time as they could at the house at the end of the street, holding the newborn while his parents slept or showered, making dinner for them. Clarke was envious, but knew their time would come if it did.

And it did, Thanksgiving morning Clarke woke up nauseous, running to the adjacent bathroom in their new house to vomit. Sitting with her head in the bowl she counted the days since her last period and wanted to laugh and cry at the sick joke. She was almost a month late and all the drug stores were closed due to the holiday and tomorrow would be a mad house due to Black Friday.

How hadn’t she realized that she’s a month late?

She stood and went back to bed, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and texted Raven.

 **Clarke (8:30):** Don’t freak out but I have a weird question to ask.

 **Birdie (8:32):** That’s one hell of a text to wake up to, what’s up?

 **Clarke (8:33):** Do you have a pregnancy test lying around?

 **Birdie (8:34):** You’re pregnant?! J

 **Clarke (8:37):** That’s why I need a pregnancy test.

 **Birdie (8:40):** I just called Roan, he’s picking one up on his way home. He’s going to nap before coming over at 2. Can it wait til then? I’m going to making pies all morning.

 **Clarke (8:42):** thank you! See you at 2.

Clarke tried staying calm all day, starting her morning with chamomile tea instead of coffee to both calm her nerves and soothe her stomach.

“You should have woke me up, I could have been helping you,” Bellamy sighed as he poured a cup of coffee for himself.

“I can cook, you know, I’m not as helpless as you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re helpless, I just believe that you work evenings so you don’t have to cook.”

“I can’t help that your sinugno is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!”

“Mm, you taste better,” Bellamy said, pressing himself against Clarke’s backside, kissing her exposed throat.

“Hmm, not today, we have guests coming over.”

“In five hours. It’s been two weeks and I know it’s my fault but you get me all weekend. I finished grading last night.”

“Which was why I didn’t wake you,” Clarke smirked.

“You can spare an hour. Raven is bringing pie, O is bringing… I don’t remember but I know we just have to worry about the turkey, stuffing, gravy and biscuits.  You can spare an hour to have sex with me.”

Clarke’s mind was reeling about the possibility of being pregnant and not wanting to risk it changing but couldn’t spend the next eight months of her life, if she’s a month along like she believes, not touched by Bellamy. She doesn’t want to risk losing the baby, but she doesn’t want to lose Bellamy.

“Can you not freak out when I tell you something.”

“Okay, no, you can’t ask that because there’s happy freaking out and there’s pissed/ sad freaking out.”

“Don’t do any of it because it’s not definite yet.”

Bellamy sighed and pulled away from Clarke, leaning against the island while he sipped his coffee.

Clarke spun around to look at him and waited for him to swallow his coffee. “I might be pregnant.”

“What?” Bellamy asked, nearly dropping his mug.

“It’s a possibility, I missed my period last month and it slipped my mind until I puked this morning. Roan is bringing a test over this afternoon and I’m going to call my mom for a blood test tomorrow. It’ll take three days but I want to get ahead of it, you know. False positives are rare so I’d rather…”

“You’re pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” Bellamy’s voice was low, in disbelief. They’ve waited so long, they wanted this and now that it’s here, Bellamy is scared shitless. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to raise a kid. His mom did most of the work when Octavia was a baby. He can’t do this.

“Hey, we got this. Stop worrying,” Clarke smiled, closing the distance and hugged her husband, planting a kiss on his lips.

“I can’t stop worrying, I—I don’t know if I can do this!”

“You helped with O, if anyone should be freaking out, it’s me. I have no experience, but stress isn’t good so I’m trying to stay calm.”

When Raven arrived, Clarke dragged her to the master bathroom before anyone could say anything or argue the matter and took the test with her back to Clarke. They anxiously awaited the results where a few minutes later a plus sign was showing clear as day. “Oh, my God!” Clarke exclaimed and Raven hugged her.

“I’m so happy for you!”

“I have to tell him. I—“ Clarke ran out of the bathroom and down the stairs, hugging Bellamy with a huge smile on her face.

“Okay, running in here doesn’t tell me anything, babe.”

Clarke pulled away with her smile intact and Bellamy sighed, “I—Octavia, you’re going to be an aunt!”

* * *

Bellamy was pacing the room. He was nervous as hell and he didn’t know what else to do but pace.

“You’re leaving divots in the floor.”

“You’re not worried? You had a horrible pregnancy, you’ve been bed ridden for months and you’re telling me to stop worrying? Clarke, one could die, they warned us that. We’re prepared for two children, do you really want to go home with just one?”

“No! Of course not, Bellamy, but do you really think your pacing and worrying is going to help me stay calm? It’s not and I’d like to attempt a natural birth instead of getting cut open so if you’re going to continue worrying, call Octavia or Raven to sit with me. It’s going to be hours, Bellamy, I need you at the top of your game and freaking out is subpar Bellamy.”

Bellamy sat in the chair next to Clarke and watched whatever was on the TV. After a minute his leg began bouncing and Clarke rolled her eyes and picked up her phone. “Hi, honey,” she heard her mom answer.

“Five centimeters and Bellamy is driving me insane, can you get here. I know I texted you and told you to come in the morning because it’s going to be a while, which you know but—“

“Clarke!” Bellamy exclaimed, pissed.

“Clarke all you had to do was ask me to come to you,” Abby said.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Hours later a nurse called Bellamy into the room as Clarke prepared to push. Aurora and Hailey. Aurora and Jacob. Jacob and Holden. He had the names ready in case Clarke couldn’t tell them, they didn’t want to know the genders.

He walked into the room and to Clarke’s side and she squeezed and screamed louder than he knew possible. And after what felt like an eternity, Clarke gave birth to a baby boy, Bellamy cut the umbilical cord as he cried and told them Jacob as Clarke was pushing out the second baby and Bellamy hoped and prayed that there was nothing wrong because—

“Doctor…” Abby said warily.

“Mom,” Clarke screamed.

“Jackson,” Abby pressed.

“Griffin,” he said back to her. “Keep pushing, Clarke, the head is out.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jackson said, coaxing the baby out of Clarke and Bellamy cut the cord again but there was no screaming.

“Jackson!” Abby yelled.

“What’s going on?” Clarke breathed, tired. “Bellamy—“

“I don’t… Abby?”

“Your daughter isn’t breathing, Jackson is trying.”

“No,” Clarke cried, clutching onto Bellamy’s arm and he wanted to cry but had to keep it together for Clarke. He couldn’t earlier but now he had to.

The minutes felt like years ticking by as Bellamy and Clarke awaited Aurora’s fate. But when they finally heard the second screaming cry of a baby, Bellamy broke down into tears, overjoyed with knowing that both his children were alive and they were going to live long and happy lives with Clarke and Bellamy teaching them everything they need to know about the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I legit CRIED while writing the last scene last night, it was heart wrenching and though I wanted to make it tragic, I just couldn't because if I made it tragic then I would have had to add in another year or two and this is called Eight Years, not Ten Years.
> 
> On the general side of this chapter, I have never been one to cry over characters so I don't know what it was about this chapter that got me so damn emotional that it literally took me a month to write, but I think it means that I did something right. Or so I hope.
> 
> And lastly, I don't know what it is about Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake, but they both individually and together that gets me so emotional every time they look at each other. I don't know how or why but in the 3 years they've been on my television screen, I've cried over them. They're going to be back to grace our screens and break my heart in 28 days. I CAN'T FUCKING WAIT!


End file.
